


Rúna

by Jane_Elliot



Series: Rúna [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Dom Loki (Marvel), Dubious Consent, Eternals, F/M, Loki is Loki, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Prequel to Thor (Marvel), S&M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:41:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 110,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24730228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jane_Elliot/pseuds/Jane_Elliot
Summary: A prequel to Thor (Marvel). Lost memories, another realm, she wakes up not knowing who she is, where she is, or how she got there.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s), Loki/Runa
Series: Rúna [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1788136
Comments: 59
Kudos: 90





	1. Ch. 1 - Roots

_What was that?_

There had been a strong pull from somewhere behind my belly button. It wasn’t exactly unpleasant, but it left a feeling of unease at its foreignness. It was both exhilarating and jarring at once.

_Am I going to be sick?_

I opened my eyes only to immediately shut them again, vertigo suddenly hitting me. 

_Oh, yeah. Definitely going to be sick--_

Without opening my eyes, I turned my head to the right, blindly throwing my right hand out from my side and into what felt like softly churned soil. I retched.

Panting and not daring to open my eyes again just yet, I dug my fingers into the soft earth, gently wrapping my other arm across my middle.

 _Did I eat something bad for lunch?_ I wondered dully, only realizing after a few moments of nothing coming to mind that I couldn’t recall what I had eaten earlier that day. 

A soft throb streaked across my temples, causing me to take deep, steadying breaths. After a good dozen or so, my body had settled into a more peaceful state. I had slowly seated myself upright and leaned against the rough, solid surface at my back. I didn’t dare open my eyes just yet, so I let my hands and fingers trace over what felt like roots curving out and away from my hips into the gratifyingly cool ground. It felt like I had cradled myself at the foot of a tree though I couldn’t remember ever choosing to do so. Raising my face skyward, I decided that testing my vision looking up would be less likely to trigger another bout of dizziness.

I was right. Though initially squinting at the bright illumination of the branches and leaves above me, I was able to keep my eyes open, observing the massive tree I had taken shelter under. With gentle head tilts, I took in the vast expanse of the great tree’s knotted limbs and dense foliage, varied in shades of luscious greens.

 _You must have had a long life_ , I mused as I patted a root that one of my hands had been unconsciously stroking. Feeling no rush to move away from it, I leaned my head back against the trunk and enjoyed the pleasant sounds and smells around me. Light fragrances of flowers were caught on a mild breeze, and the gentle rustling of the leaves was soothing.

I didn’t know how long I had been sitting there, but after some time, I could hear the low, mumbling tones of voices. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but they gradually became discernible as they came closer.

_Maybe they could help. Do I need help? Where am I, anyway?_

Dropping my chin down, a mild flip-flopping of my stomach kept me seated, but my view was no longer of a tilting world. The voices were now clearer, a male and a female. I couldn’t see them yet. All I could see was a wall of hedge encircling me and the tree, only broken in intervals to reveal what looked like pathways. There were at least two in my direct sight, and I imagined more may lay in the hedge behind me. Varied wild flowers and creeping ferns lined the bottom of the hedge in a pell mell sort of way. Whoever had designed the garden--for that’s what it clearly was--had given thought to both domestication in the maintained hedges as well as appreciation for the wild nature of the flora.

 _What a beautiful garden. I wonder whose it is. And how did I even get here?_ Again, I tried thinking about what I had been doing earlier in the day, but there was nothing. 

Just nothing. 

I could feel a tightness growing in my chest as my breathing picked up in pace, panic beginning to set in. But my inner turmoil was interrupted.

“You know his moods better than anyone, Mother,” the man’s rumbling tones carried over the shrubbery wall. From which direction, I couldn’t tell. “They are as changeable as the weather.”

“Call it mother’s intuition,” responded the woman, concern evident in her voice, “but it never bodes well when his temperament turns docile.”

“Docile!” laughed the man. “Have you not heard of his antics just last week--”

“I do not want to hear it,” the woman’s voice cut in. The only response was another jovial laugh from the man.

“He is anything but docile, Mother,” he replied.

The two had come close enough now that I could hear the woman quietly chuckle. They sounded like they were just on the other side of the hedge, nearing the opening to my right.

“I am not speaking about his...tendencies,” she carefully explained. “His interests have always been eccentric. Obedience, however, especially to your father’s demands, has rarely been an act he has willingly practiced.” 

“Perhaps he has finally realized his place, beside the throne.”

I could hear the woman tsk in disapproval.

“He is your brother. You should not boast your position as though you have won a match of _toga hönk_ at Midsummer festival,” she chastised. “It is unfitting for the man-who-would-be king. A wise king should take actions to keep such a clever warrior by his side.”

 _Togas and kings? Who are these people?_ My fingers shakily started feeling around my scalp, hunting for any signs of a lump or gash, only to come up empty. Hitting my head might have explained the dizziness and--hopefully temporary--amnesia, but it didn’t explain the odd conversation. _Maybe I foolishly followed a white rabbit_ , I thought wryly.

Deciding that I may need help from the strangers, if for nothing other than discovering where I was, I intended to politely get their attention with an “excuse me.” What came out of my mouth, however, were a few raspy breaths, only realizing at that moment that my throat hurt terribly. I tried again, but the weak words made it no further than my own ears. In all of the confusion since waking up, having lost my voice was placed in the rapidly growing “hmm, that’s weird” file in the back of my mind.

Placing my hands against the roots on either side of me, I made to stand but failed almost immediately, plopping back down with a wheezed groan. My arms and legs felt like rubber bands, and my vision blurred at the edges. _Okay, standing is off the menu._

“Is someone there?” came the woman’s voice. _Yes!_

“...yes...help…” I whispered back. I doubted they heard me, but to my luck, I could hear footsteps moving closer to the gap in the hedge. Then, a woman appeared.

“Oh,” she said, a mildly surprised look on her face.

“What is it, Mother?”

Behind the woman’s left shoulder appeared the man, more than a head taller and much broader in the shoulders. He looked immense. Noticing me, he maneuvered himself in front of the woman, a human barrier separating us. _Do I look threatening?_

“Who are you?” he barked. “How did you get here?”

_That’s what I’d like to know._

I tried to say as much, but my voice still couldn’t reach an audible pitch. Quickly, I resorted to tapping my throat with my hand and shaking my head. 

“You cannot speak?” Interpreting my pantomime correctly, the woman moved out from behind her son and took a few steps closer to me. I gave her a small smile, one that she returned in kind. Her son had moved closer as well, but his narrowed eyes and the grim set of his mouth relayed his suspicion.

“Why do you lounge in the dirt?” he asked. “You should show more respect to the queen.”

 _The queen?_ Pieces began to click into place. _That makes sense since she’s his mother, and he’s supposedly the would-be king. A prince. Royalty._

They certainly looked the parts. The queen wore an elegant gown of flowing, burnished bronze material and a modest neckline, rich with pearl detailing. Half of her light caramel-colored hair was piled atop her head in soft waves while the remainder spilled across one shoulder. The prince wore what I could only describe as fitted leather armor with a red cape of sorts pinned across his shoulders, the tail end brushing the ground behind him. More golden than his mother, his hair reached just past his shoulders. They were just missing their crowns and hundreds of years of modernization.

 _Tales of knights and their ladies fair_ , I thought. They may have just stepped out of a Renaissance painting.

Both had waited for me to respond, no doubt by jumping to my feet and bowing my apologies. The expectant looks made me try again at pushing myself up from my less-than-respectful seat only to immediately cut my left palm against the root I had tried to use for leverage. The sudden movement had, of course, triggered the vertigo. Snapping my eyes shut, I took deep breaths and cradled my injured hand.

“She looks unwell.” I could hear the queen’s genuine concern. “Perhaps she should be taken to the healers. We may acquire more thorough answers once she has been cared for.”

_Healers? What about a doctor? Or better yet, a brain specialist?_

I hadn’t heard the prince approach, but suddenly, a large, warm hand grasped my right wrist. I jumped a little from surprise and opened my eyes to a crouching figure pulling my arm around his shoulders with one hand. I could feel the other sliding behind my back, coming to rest along my waist.

He said nothing. He merely looked in my eyes and gave a small nod, raising his eyebrows questioningly. I assumed he wanted permission, so I gave a nod back. He stood, pulling me up with him.

Immediately, the garden was receding quickly to a distant pinpoint, darkness chasing after it. Simultaneously, I felt something solid hit the back of my knees. Then, nothing.

~ ~ ~

Softly whispering voices pulled me into consciousness. Opening my eyes, a vaulted stone ceiling sat high above me, skillfully carved. I was lying in a cot-sized bed, one of many that lined the long, relatively empty room. Two women dressed in plain frocks stood a few beds away, heads bent towards one another, the source of the whispers. 

My lips felt dry and sore, but that was nothing compared to the burning in my throat. Eyeing a water pitcher on the bedside table, I propped myself up on an elbow and reached for the cup sitting next to it. 

“You should not tax yourself. You have only just awoken,” called out one of the women. The taller of the two began bustling over to me, flapping one of her hands up and down. “Let me get that for you.”

“That’s okay. I can get it,” I replied, giving her a grin that suddenly burst into a wide smile.

 _I_ can _get it! No more dizziness. And my arms work again!_

I shot up to a sitting position out of my excitement and wasted no time testing the mobility of my arms and legs.

“Would you _please_ be still,” said the woman in a mildly frustrated tone. “You have been unconscious for nearly a day. Now that you are awake, we need to check you over before-- Oh, no, you will not!”

I had flipped my blankets off of me with obvious intent to get out of bed, to which the woman grabbed both of my arms and proceeded to push me back down. She was surprisingly strong. Or I was still weak.

“You will stay put, or I will have you strapped to the bed. Do you understand?” She may have done this once or twice before based on the perfected glare she aimed at me. It clearly warned that she was not to be challenged.

“Sorry,” I said, internally pleased that I could use my voice once again. Though a bit hoarse, it was at least functioning. The woman helpfully poured me some water and proceeded to tightly tuck me back into bed as I drank.

_Ambrosia!_

After drinking another full glass, aided by my vigilant nurse-- _Is that what she is?_ \--I leaned back on the pillows she had studiously fluffed and placed behind me.

“Thank you…”

“Eir,” she supplied, “and you are most welcome.” 

“Eir,” I tried, but it came out sounding more nasally and altogether missing the soft roll of the “r” at the end. “I’m Rune.”

_Thank the heavens! I can at least remember my own name._

“Where am I?” I asked.

“You are in Healers Hall under the graciousness of the king,” Eir stated simply as though that bit of information explained everything.

“The king, right,” I mumbled to myself, getting an odd look from Eir. The creases around her mouth deepened, worn into her skin from years of serious contemplation, I imagined.

“Yes, the king,” she elaborated, watching me closely, “Odin Allfather, King of Asgard and Protector of the Nine Realms.”

_Odin. King Odin. Of Asgard. Something about realms… Odin…the god?_

“Did I hit my head?” I suddenly needed to know that there was a reason everything was so confusing and wrong. The panic I had started to feel in the garden was building in my chest again. Eir looked at me with some concern, now.

“There was no indication that you had been harmed,” her tone soothing. “Other than your palm, which has been attended to, you are physically sound. Why? Does your head hurt?”

I proceeded to explain to her all that I could remember from the garden, my vertigo and nausea, my loss of memory, right up to the point where I had fainted, which is what I assumed had happened.

The healer leaned over me, feeling and massaging around my scalp, asking me to carefully tilt my head this way and that. She also looked at my eyes, asking me to follow her finger, checking for abnormalities. After she had tested and tested again my motor functions to her satisfaction, she seated herself on a wooden stool next to my bed and scribbled down some notes on what looked like a polished slab of wood functioning as a rudimentary clipboard.

“It is as I said before; there seems to be no physical harm done. Though,” she added, “we are still awaiting results from some precautionary tests we performed when his grace delivered you to us. In fact, they should be complete by now.”

Eir got up and made her way to the end of the room where the other healer was keeping herself busy with what looked like shelves of small vials lining the wall behind a large, mahogany desk. Her absence gave me some time to think.

 _I must have lost my mind. That’s the only explanation._ I looked around at the medieval-type setting I was currently a part of. _This has to be a hallucination. Or maybe I’m just dreaming?_

I clung to the tiny bit of hope that thought brought me as Eir returned, now accompanied by the other healer. The younger girl didn’t say a word but just stared at me while Eir mirrored the silence. Her eyes, however, bounced back and forth across the piece of paper she held in her hands as her head made small shakes back and forth as though she didn’t agree with what she was reading. I was already on edge, just trying to breathe through the odd tightening sensation that had settled around my lungs. The quiet was maddening.

“Eir!” I finally snapped, giving her a pleading look.

“Oh! My apologies. It is the strangest thing…” She took one more look at her paper and then back at me. “You are a mortal. Human. From Midgard.”

Amused at pointedly being called “mortal” and “human,” I nodded my head and chuckled a little. 

“I am human, yes. But what’s Midgard?”

“The realm of the humans!” Excitedly, the younger healer had finally spoken. A bit embarrassed by the look Eir gave her, she more quietly added, “The forbidden realm.”

“Do you mean Earth? Why am I even asking this?” I asked myself more than either of them, my voice gradually rising in pitch as I began to unravel. “Everyone on Earth knows that Earth is called Earth. Does that mean we’re not on Earth anymore? Am I on another planet? Realm. You both had said ‘realm.’ Is that a dimensional thing? What am I saying? There’s no way this is real. I’m dreaming. I have to be dreaming. This can’t be real. This-can’t-be-real-this-can’t-be-real--”

I had started to rock myself gently at some point, chanting my newfound mantra. I must have been rambling long enough for Eir to retrieve something from her desk and return because the next thing I was aware of was a sharp pricking sensation on the pad of my left forefinger.

“Ou-ch!” I irritatedly said, snatching my hand back from the woman and frowning at her. She had successfully snapped me out of my mental spiral.

“You can feel that, yes?” she asked matter-of-factly, holding the sharp pin at the ready to poke me again if necessary. I nodded. She sat down on the stool once again and looked in my eyes, cautiously reaching out to hold my left hand between hers and letting out a small sigh. “This is not a dream, Rune. You--somehow--are here in Asgard, in the palace of Odin Allfather. Denying what is plainly in front of your face will do you no good.”

She gently squeezed my hand and gave it a couple reassuring pats. She looked genuinely concerned for me, and it felt good to see a friendly face amongst the turmoil. I took a few large, deep breaths, trying to stretch my lungs.

“Okay,” I said in acknowledgment. _I am in Asgard, which is not on Earth. Odin the god is king. I am a mortal, which makes these other people immortal...I guess? Are they all gods? Nope. Nope. Don’t think about that. Don’t let yourself get overwhelmed. Be rational… Or at least as rational as you can be at this point. What do you need now? What’s next? Can I go home? Go to…? To…?_

“Ugh!” I grunted in frustration, smacking my forehead with the flat of my palm. “Why can’t I remember anything?”

“I can only theorize based on your symptoms and what you have told me,” Eir explained, “but I believe the great raven, Muninn, has stolen something from you.”

“What does that mean?”

“We, Asgardians, believe memory loss to have purpose, that the loss is the work of Muninn. It is not always clear why he takes what he does, but we understand that he does not do it without reason. He may be protecting you, child.”

“Or punishing you,” piped in the younger healer. To the girl’s dismay, Eir scowled and shooed her away from my bed. “Pay no mind to Inger. She is _nýli_ _ð_ _i_. Inexperienced.”

“So, in short,” I began, taking a steadying breath, “I somehow ended up here, in Asgard. Which is certainly not a dream. And I’m suffering memory loss.”

Eir smiled sympathetically. Then, a heavy knock on the hall’s only entrance rang through the empty room. Inger got up from her seated position behind the desk and opened the door, revealing what looked like a guard holding a lance. He spoke quietly to Inger, who soon made her way back over to my bed.

“He says he was sent to check on your status. And should you be awake and bodily able, by the Allfather’s command, you are summoned to appear before the royal court after midday’s meal.” The girl had a look of apology on her face as she relayed the message. She returned to confirm delivery to the waiting guard who disappeared back behind the door.

I sat there, staring at Eir, silently pleading to her for something. Any sort of word to help me process everything. _What do I do?_

“Come now,” said Eir, looking down at what must have been a pitiful face. “You need a bath and a good meal first.” She folded my blanket down and offered her arm for me to take. I wasn’t feeling weak at all, but deciding that things would probably go smoother if I just followed her lead, I took the proffered limb. I caught a quick glimpse of a smile pulling at the corners of her stoic lips.

“Thank you, Eir,” I said, giving her a small smile. “And could you help me prepare for what I’m about to step into? I mean, do I curtsy? Or bow? What do I call them? Your highnesses? My leiges?”

“Your graces will suffice. Or you may use their titled names--King Odin, Queen Frigga, and princes Thor and Loki,” she rattled off. “And when you first approach, only a small bowing of your head is expected to show your respect.”

She began leading me to the door and out into a narrow corridor, eventually taking me to a wash room to clean up. All the while, she chattered away, commenting on how she might style my hair to look more presentable or asking me questions about Earth--or Midgard, rather. And I loved her for it. I clung to every word, trying to add pieces to the puzzle I had been given while also trying to not dwell on my nerves. Slowly, the picture would come together.


	2. Ch. 2 - A Summoning Knell

We had walked through at least half a dozen corridors and staircases when the guard who had been leading the way finally stopped and turned to speak. He first glanced down at me and then to Eir.

“Remain here until you are summoned.” And with that, he left through a nearby archway. The second guard who had brought up the rear of our little party remained behind, silent and alert.

When the guards, both solid, large men, had first arrived to escort me, I had lost my nerve for a moment, my feet refusing to move. That was until Eir had appeared at my side, and I could breathe once again. She had explained to me earlier that, as Head Healer, she had duties to fulfill, one of them being to report her findings to the king.

Now, as we waited and my nerves were building-- _I suppose anyone would be nervous to meet royalty. Or a god_ \--I was even more grateful for the healer’s calm, familiar presence. She had begun to speak quietly with the lone guard, inquiring after the health of someone, when his comrade returned. 

“Follow me.”

The great hall we walked into was so much more vast and grand than I could have imagined. Its vaulted ceilings of creamy stone were decorated with large murals, magnificent scenes of warriors in battle and god-like beings, the images so finely detailed that they almost appeared to move. 

_These would put Michelangelo to shame._

Stationed around the room, one at each entrance and some in the spaces between, were numerous guards, all armored and hefting lances like our escorts. All were large, solidly built, and intimidating. 

We continued our trek across the large room towards a raised dais from where four individuals observed our progress.

At its center, a golden throne sat, intricate patterns carved along its flat surfaces, its high back topped with what looked to be ravens, frozen mid flight. The formidable man who occupied the seat could be none other than Odin. Though he donned silvery hair and beard, he didn’t seem weakened with age. Sitting an imposing figure, one hand holding a dangerous-looking, multi-pronged spear, his keen eye watched me--for he had only one, the other covered with a dark patch. The golden prince, Thor, stood to the king’s right, clad in a similar manner to when I had met him. His once suspicious looks had now changed to something like interest as he watched me come closer. 

To Odin’s left, Queen Frigga occupied a smaller, less striking throne. She kindly smiled at me. She was dressed in another flowing, elegant gown with threads of gold woven throughout it, her lovely hair piled high on her head with a few curled strands tumbling along her neck. I could see her crown today, her hair woven around it. To her left stood the last of the family, the second prince. 

While the other family members were peach-skinned and fair-haired, he was paler and black-headed. Even his attire was dark, black boots, black leather pants, dark clover-colored tunic, and a long-sleeved, fitted coat to match. He looked the part of the proverbial black sheep, and he, too, watched as our party finally came to a stop.

Our two guards took positions slightly in front and on either side of us, lances held in readied hands as they faced us. 

_Do I look dangerous?_ I thought, briefly irked and then flattered before settling on mildly amused. And then I remembered the garden and Prince Thor’s reaction to my incapacitated self when we first met. _They really do see me as some sort of threat._ I would have thought it funny until Odin spoke.

“A daughter of man,” his quiet, measured voice surprisingly commanding attention, “appears in the queen’s gardens. Alone. No evidence of how she arrived there. Strange at best. And dangerous at worst. So which are you, girl? An oddity? Or a _threat_?”

His last word was emphatically enunciated, a warning of danger kindling a small flicker of fear in me. Instinctually, I took a small step nearer Eir who gently placed her hand at my lower back. Glancing at her face, she didn’t look pleased as she stared straight ahead.

“Healer Eir,” Queen Frigga spoke, quickly reading the woman’s face, “do you have something you wish to tell us?”

Eir gave a quick blink and bowed her head. 

_Oh shoot!_

I had forgotten to bow and rushed in mimicking her movement. I heard a small sniff come from the dark prince, a slight sneer on his face, no doubt in disapproval of my poor manners. _Jerk._ My attention was pulled back to Eir as she spoke directly to the queen.

“I am ashamed, your graces, that the girl’s status has reached the king’s ears by means other than myself,” she stated in such a heavily displeased tone that it wouldn’t have surprised me if, as far away as she was, Inger’s ears were currently burning.

“A problem to be rectified another time, perhaps,” chimed in Prince Thor, leading the conversation to the point. “What can you tell us about the girl?”

 _I have a name_ . I could feel my irritation bristling at the back of my neck. Slightly shifting my shoulders, I looked away from Thor in my best attempt to not roll my eyes, which caught the interest of the other brother. His eyebrows slightly arched upward, a light pull at the corners of his mouth. _Well, at least someone’s amused._

Following Eir’s lead, I turned my focus to Queen Frigga. She, at the very least, had the kindest face in the family.

“We have checked her body thoroughly for injury,” Eir began to report with the utmost professionalism in her tone, “and found no harm save for the cut on her hand to which we have already tended to. As for her mind, however, she appears to be suffering from _minnistap_.”

“How very convenient,” retorted Odin, his one eye still fixated on my face. “How much has the great raven taken from the girl?”

“Woman, actually,” I cut in. “The name’s Rune, by the way, and I can’t remember anything before waking up under a tree in your garden yesterday.” My voice had progressively gotten quieter until it was nothing more than a mumble, my burst of righteous indignation having fizzled out as quickly as it had ignited. 

Thor’s face had split into a large grin, stating, “She is a fiery one. I like her,” to the otherwise quiet group. Odin didn’t look as amused by my impertinence.

“Pardon our manners,” said the king, not remotely convincing in his sincerity, “but a stranger, a mortal... woman, has breached not only Asgard’s realm but the walls of the palace itself, only discovered when approached by the queen, no less. A situation that should never have happened. Should we have reason to believe your word, or do you take me for a fool, Rune?”

The question hung in the air, but it wasn’t meant to be answered. Everyone understood that I couldn’t reasonably argue against his reasoning. _I wouldn’t trust me either_ , I supposed.

“She is but only a mortal after all,” reasoned the queen, gently reaching up and placing her hand on her husband’s arm. “What harm could she have caused, really? She was so pitiful.”

I lifted my chin a little. A part of me didn’t like being called pitiful. Granted, I didn’t have the body one would think of when “royal assassin” came to mind, but I wasn’t a small, weak, fainting lily. _Well, you did faint when you first met her_. But I was taller than your average woman and much heavier. My weight behind a good punch or kick would surely have an impact, right? I finally settled on the idea that I at least looked like I could take care of myself.

“The poor thing has lost her memory and has appeared in a world wholly new and strange to her. Would it not be better if we returned her to her home?” the queen proposed, giving me one of her gentle smiles.

 _Go home? To where? Well, to Earth… But then where?_ I desperately tried searching the void in my memory hoping that, if I just kept trying, something would fall into place. There was nothing.

 _But still. The idea of being back on Earth, among fellow humans, is enticing. With or without my memories._ The idea was steadily becoming more and more appealing. I looked at the queen and then the king hopefully.

“Looks may be deceiving.” 

Prince Loki had spoken, and for some reason my stomach had become unsettled, a sudden stone sinking to its bottom. For the briefest moment, his mouth had turned up into a grin as his eyes met mine, but just as quickly turned serious and somber. 

“Though she may only be a human _girl_ ,” the word sounding more like an insult from him than it had from any of the others, “she may not be acting on her own. If we release her, she may return to her master, spilling secrets of how to penetrate Asgard’s defenses. Her mind, though simple it may be--”

_And now you’ve risen from “jerk” to “asshole.” Congratulations._

“--holds enough knowledge to enter the palace undetected, making her a threat,” he finished.

Odin made a noise of acknowledgement. This wasn’t going well for me.

“I would suggest, Father,--”

_Oh, would you shut up, already._

“--that we keep her here--guarded of course--until her memories return or until we are assured that she harbors no malicious intent,” thoughtfully adding, “for the safety of all Asgard’s people.”

“My youngest son’s concerns are rightly placed,” stated the king, “in the thought of his people and not his own pleasures.” 

Though he hadn’t spoken it directly to Thor, Odin’s words were clearly meant to chastise him as equally as they were to praise Loki. The rivalry between them was evident as Thor’s face darkened into a scowl and Loki’s glowed with quiet triumph.

 _Sibling rivalry in its peak form_.

Then Odin’s eye returned to mine. Despite having just the one, he had been gifted--as some people are--with eyes that can instill fear or command respect with just a look. It was enough to make me lower my eyes to the stone floor.

“And perhaps some time in a palace cell would aid in the speedy return of her memories,” threatened the king, adding, “Not a distraction in the world.”

_A prisoner. I would be a prisoner. For who knows how long. And what for? I didn’t do anything wrong._

“But I didn’t do anything wrong,” I stated indignantly, trying to plead my case but making a poor start of it.

“The speech of a maiden should no man trust nor the words which a woman says,” Odin intoned with calm assuredness.

Though I hardly agreed with him, it was evident that Odin was a cautious king. Caution was smart. I needed to be smart, too.

“You’re right,” I conceded, Odin now looking at me with curiosity. “You shouldn’t just trust my word. So trust my actions,” I finally offered.

“Continue.”

“I haven’t done anything to deserve being locked away,” speeding up as I watched the king start to frown. “My only fault was waking up somewhere I didn’t belong. And since then, I haven’t done anything to suggest I would harm anyone. You can ask Eir.”

At this, Eir nodded her head in agreement. Yet again, I found myself so very grateful for her kindness and support.

“She has been nothing but a model patient, your grace,” Eir supplied. The queen smiled at this. Clearly she thought highly of Eir’s opinions.

“And surely I would be of better use doing something helpful than sitting in a cell,” I argued. _Anything would be better than that._

“You wish to earn your keep, then?” asked Odin. For a moment, his eye looked amused, but when I blinked, any hint of it was gone. It didn’t matter, though. The thought that he’d allow me to remain out of the cells for the time being was all that mattered.

“I’ll do anything!” I blurted out. “Please, your grace.”

To improve matters, Eir chimed in, offering to delegate work to keep me busy.

“And I may begin treatments to aid in the recovery of her memories. I feel, given time,” she added, “we may see some success.”

Right then, I vowed to myself to repay Eir’s kindness. _No dungeon and a friend who wants to help me_. My prospects were getting better by the moment. 

Then, Odin spoke again.

“It is a sound plan. However,” pausing only briefly due to me having turned happily to Eir to thank her, “Head Healer Eir has enough duties to attend to and should not be burdened with the responsibility of managing the girl.”

 _And we’ve returned to “girl” again_ , I thought dryly.

“She shall have a guarded escort at all times,” he went on. “And as it was at his request to keep the girl for the protection of the realm, her tasks as well as responsibility for her will lie with Prince Loki.”

The face I made must have paled in comparison to the disbelieving one that Loki wore because, upon seeing the dark prince’s reaction at their father’s words, Thor gave a broad smile of mocking amusement.

“Father, surely someone else--” Loki began but was quickly silenced by the singular echoing ring of Odin’s spear against the dais.

“And should you cause any trouble,” the king continued, his keen eye finding mine again, “you will fall at the mercy of the prince.”

 _Great. The mercy of an asshole._ Glancing at the prince, I could easily see his dislike of the task he had been assigned. He looked as though a bitter taste tainted his mouth.

“What am I to do with such an insignificant creature?” he asked, his voice laden with distaste. Yes, being essentially chained to someone like me, a mere human, must have seemed downright laughable to a god if it weren’t so utterly displeasing.

“Did you not, mere moments ago, eloquently relay your fears at the potential threat of this girl? How is it, then, that in such a short time this danger to the people has become insignificant in the eyes of Loki Odinson?” His father’s admonishment was powerful in quelling the prince’s displeasure.

“You will watch over the girl and report to me any discoveries of her identity or motives as they arise.” The finality in Odin’s voice was not to be questioned, the dark prince giving a bow of acknowledgement of his father and king’s command.

Though I wasn’t happy about the managerial aspect, at least I would be able to move outside the confines of an undoubtedly damp, dark cell. And I would get to see Eir. I’d just need to stay under the prince’s radar, give him no reason to bother me. I looked up at Loki.

_If looks could kill…_

He didn’t look irritated or even angry. No, either would have been much more preferable. His bright blue eyes were cold and his face stony. “Test me at your peril,” it threatened.

And despite the threat, I had never wanted to stick my tongue out at a complete stranger more than in that moment.

Biting back the absurd urge, I turned first to the king and then the queen, giving a respectful head bow and thanking them. Eir bowed and thanked them as well, grabbing hold of my elbow and pulling me back the way we had entered, our escorts taking position before and after us as before. We walked in silence back to Healers Hall. 

There was a lot to process. Even though I was technically a prisoner of the palace, I didn’t feel much dread at the thought of it. After all, things could have gone so much worse. _Like being speared to the floor by Odin the second you opened your smart mouth._ Yes, I would need to watch my tongue, especially considering how generous the king was being in letting me work and have free reign around the palace. _Well, free enough_ , I thought, eyeing the guard in front of us. 

We rounded another corner, and I finally began to recognize where we were. Soon, we had stopped in front of the now familiar hall’s door. Eir held it open, nodding her head for me to go through first. Once inside, I turned and caught her talking with one of the guards. She gave him a nod, entered the hall, and closed the door behind her.

“I informed the guards that we would need access to the servants’ quarters. We will need to get you some more appropriate attire,” she said, looking over my jeans and blouse, which still had smudges of dirt and other things gathered from my lie-down in the garden. “As well, you will need to be assigned a room.”

“I won’t be sleeping here?” I asked.

“Oh, certainly not,” Eir replied, smiling. “All servants are supplied their own room, though some may share when guests arrive and their servants require accommodations. And you are a servant, now.”

I really didn’t understand what that entailed other than doing menial tasks day in and day out. But it didn’t matter. I was just grateful to be there with Eir and not locked away in a pit.

“If you ever need anything,” I said to her, “I would be happy to help.”

She smiled again, and I continued.

“Thank you. I really mean it. You didn’t have to stand up for me back there. You don’t know me,” I paused and held out my hand to her, “but I promise to do whatever I can to not make you regret helping me.”

Eir immediately took my hand, but instead of shaking it, she placed her other hand around the back of mine. It was warm and kind.

“I would as soon enjoy watching a poor beast being baited and beaten than see a fragile creature like you disappear into the palace cells! As a healer, my calling is to soothe and tend to all creatures,” then adding, “It does not hurt that I have also taken an interest in you.”

She gave my hand a small pat like she had done earlier that day. I was learning a lot about the type of person Eir was. She was reasonable and professional yet also kind. She would most likely have been a great doctor back on Earth, and the fact that she was Head Healer in the service of Odin all but confirmed that she must be good at what she did. Whatever it might entail, undergoing treatment at her hands gave me some hope.

“When will we start working on my memory loss?” I blurted out. Prisoner or not, the ever present emptiness in the back of my mind was niggling away at me. _What am I forgetting?_

“I will need to check my schedule first,” the healer stated, wandering over to the desk she and the other healer shared as a work space. She flipped through a few pages stacked neatly at the corner of the desk. “I will need some time to research as well. In the meantime, we will keep you busy.”

Just then, Inger had wandered through the door, softly humming to herself, not a care in the world, until she was pinned to the spot by the look Eir gave her.

“The Healers Code. Oath four. Now,” snapped Eir, placing her hands on her hips.

“Share not what is not yours to share,” recited Inger immediately, like a soldier responding to an officer’s command.

Eir pointed one hand at me but continued to stare down her apprentice, a line at the corner of her mouth growing deeper as she set her jaw. The young woman’s face immediately flushed red, a sheepish look of guilt if ever I saw one.

 _Oh, you poor girl._ I wouldn’t have traded a single thing to be in her shoes at that moment.


	3. Ch. 3 - Accoutrements

Inger was tasked with dusting, relabeling, and cataloging every tiny vial stocked on the shelves behind the healers’ desk. The young woman looked to have gotten through at least a couple dozen after a good hour, but when I tried to cheer her on with a peppy, “You’re doing great!”, Eir had to point out, “Yes, you are doing well, Inger. Only one thousand, two hundred, and ninety-seven to finish.” I thought the girl might cry, but she only briefly looked at me and then returned to her work.

“Come now, Rune. I finally have some free time to get you settled.”

As we left the hall, one guard followed behind us. Other than the general noise of his heavily armored body, my shadow was silent. 

_Well, that’s not too bad_.

Eir quickly began pointing out features as we walked, giving a lesson on the palace’s history as well as Asgard’s. There were so many unfamiliar words and difficult to pronounce--let alone remember--names of people, places, and events that my head felt like it was going to burst. And we had only been walking for what felt like minutes. It also didn’t help that I was trying to memorize the way back to the hall, which was putting nearly everything else out of my head.

Eir suddenly stopped midway down an upper walkway that lined an enclosed courtyard. She turned to look at me, and I stared back.

“Have you been listening, Rune?” she asked skeptically. 

“I’m sorry,” I explained, embarrassed. “It’s all just so confusing and new to me.”

She didn’t scold me or give me a lecture. She didn’t even look irritated. She just smiled and gestured down with her hand.

“This is the training courtyard for officers of the Allfather’s guard. It can be quite loud at times when training is in session,” she explained. “However, when there is no training, this is the nearest retreat for fresh air and a view of the heavens.”

At this, she clasped her hands behind her back and took a long, deep breath. I followed suit, enjoying the view of the clear Asgardian sky. Down below, a tree with millions of small leaves had made a home in the center of the courtyard, its leaves beginning to show signs of fall. Tiny golden yellow spots had already begun to pepper the yard.

Along the outside of the yard were wooden racks strewn with various weapons. A few wooden dummies were spread around the relatively empty space. They looked battered and weatherworn.

“Do you train here?” I asked my shadow. It felt too weird to not acknowledge or speak to him. 

“No, _dauðleg kona._ I am not an officer,” he replied but kept still, staring straight ahead. 

_Well, this isn’t going to work_ , I thought. _We should be friendly with one another at the very least._

“I’m Rune,” I said, holding out my hand to shake his, but he didn’t take it. “And you are…?”

“Kåre, _dauðleg kona_ ,” he replied.

“Cora?” I tried, but subtleties of the pronunciation were beyond me. However, he gave a short nod of affirmation. _What a talker._

“Are you going to be my permanent shadow? Because if you are,” I said, giving him a small smile, “we should really be on a first name basis.”

Oddly enough, he still didn’t look at me but looked to Eir instead.

“She only wishes to be friendly, Kåre,” the healer explained. “She will not take a bite out of you.”

_Yet another person who thinks I’m threatening. Am I some sort of monster here?_

He turned and looked down at me, finally giving a small chuckle when I playfully snapped my teeth at him.

“Hello, _dauðleg kona_ ...Rune,” he said with a grin, still refusing to shake my hand, though. _You can’t win every battle._

“What does that mean? You keep saying it,” directing my question at Kåre. He seemed at a loss about what to say, so he looked to Eir again.

“ _Dauðleg kona_ ,” she repeated. “It means ‘mortal woman.’ I suppose word of her presence has already traveled through the palace?” She aimed the question at the guard, who nodded.

“Is me being mortal really that significant? I mean...,” I paused, not knowing if I really wanted to know the answer of what I was about to ask.

_You’re already this far into Wonderland, Alice. In for a penny, in for a pound._

I finished, “Are you all immortal? Gods?” the last word getting stuck and coming out more like a cough.

Eir thought for a moment and began to slowly walk, continuing our journey, until we had stepped back into a corridor and left the silent courtyard behind. She finally turned her face towards me as we began to climb a staircase.

“We are a different race than you,” she explained in as reasonable a manner as possible. “We are similar in many ways, such as our shapes, our needs, our desires. And of course, child, we can die, just as you and any other creature in all the realms. We just...take a little longer to age than humans. So it may appear that we are immortal, but we are simply blessed with long life.”

“How long is long?” I asked, extremely curious.

“Oh, on average, a handful of millennia,” she said dismissively.

 _Thousands. Thousands of years old._ I wondered how old Eir must have been but didn’t dare ask. _And how old could_ Odin _be?_

I was surrounded by ancient people. Though I currently couldn’t remember my own life, I couldn’t imagine in any significant way that it would compare to Eir’s existence. That sense of _I must be dreaming_ was threatening to return when we finally made it to the top of the stairs, marching through the open doors of what looked to have been a library at one time; the shelves now housed various bolts of fabric, clothing, and a variety of sewing paraphernalia.

From behind a rather large loom, the seamstress appeared, looking cheery with pins sticking out of odd places in her work frock. While Eir kept a rather well-groomed appearance, the seamstress was a mess of frizzed curls, rolled sleeves, and bright, laughing eyes. She looked near Eir’s age, but for all I knew, that could have meant a difference of ten years or a few hundred.

She ran up to me immediately, holding her arms out to pull me into a hug, exclaiming, “Oh, _dauðleg kona!_ It’s so nice to meet you!”

“Uh, the name’s Rune,” I laughed over her shoulder. She let me go and gave Eir the same warm welcome.

“Fulla, could there be any chance you happen to have a servant’s frock for Rune?” Eir asked, explaining my new serving position. “And she will also require some undergarments, bed clothes, a warm cloak, and a pair of shoes if possible.”

Fulla scratched her head and looked me over.

“A frock for her shape is not likely in my stores, but I can have a pair made up in a day or so,” she said, moving near me and pulling out a soft measuring tape from one of her apron pockets. “For the immediate moment, would a linen underdress and an apron dress be manageable?”

Eir nodded while the seamstress took my measurements, all the while asking me questions about Earth, or rather Midgard, and humans in general. I was relieved that I didn’t struggle with any of her inquiries, none having specifically to do with me or my history. At one point, she had reached out with fascination and ran her hand along the outside of my calf, following the seam of my jeans. The material was apparently not common in Asgard.

“Humans are fascinating creatures,” she said as she felt the tougher denim compared to the thinner and softer cotton and wool garments many of the servants wore. Between Inger, Kåre, and now Fulla, I was baffled by the mixture of fear and fascination Asgardians had with humans.

“What’s so fascinating about humans?” I finally asked, looking from Fulla to Eir. Then, remembering something Inger had said when I had first met her earlier in the day-- _Has it only been a day?_ \--I added, “And why is Ear-- uh, Midgard forbidden?”

Giving a chuckle, Fulla teasingly questioned, “Would you not be curious about a forbidden realm with a race of people you have never met?”

“True,” I acknowledged. “Meeting an alien from another world doesn’t happen every day.”

Both women shared a glance but didn’t respond. Fulla excused herself and moved through the bookshelves to retrieve some of the clothes I needed.

“Or...maybe you do,” I said to Eir, making a mental note to return to the topic of alien races another time. “But why is it forbidden to go to Midgard?”

Before saying anything, the healer let out a deep breath and asked me to sit with her at a nearby working station to wait for Fulla to return.

“When I was still a young woman, many Asgardians would visit the realm of man,” she began. “Humans were curious creatures. They would bravely battle and adventure out into the unknown, taming beasts and land, despite having such short, fragile existences. Many of the gods who traveled to your world spoke of their admiration of your people’s warrior spirit. The same spirit sings in our blood, as well.”

 _Warriors, like the vikings_ , I thought. _Weren’t they the ones who told myths of Odin and the other Norse gods?_

“Gods? I thought you said you weren’t immortal,” I asked.

“I believe your use of ‘god’ differs from our own. We use the term for individuals who have unique talents,” she elaborated. “Odin Allfather is the god of wisdom and war, befitting his kingly status. His firstborn, Thor, is the god of thunder, able to summon lightning--”

“Actual lightning?” I interrupted, amazed at the idea.

“Most certainly,” confirmed Eir. “Many of the Æsir--warrior gods,” she explained before I could ask, “have distinct talents only they possess. The gods that share more broad skills, such as fertility or seeing into the future, are known as Vanir, to which I am classified.”

Before thinking, I asked, “What talent do you have?” and got a slightly exasperated look in return.

“My specialty is in healing, of course. I have been Head Healer under the Allfather for several centuries now, a position earned by those who his grace has deemed satisfactory.”

I could tell Eir was being modest. I could hardly believe that Odin, being the intelligent god that he was, would choose anyone less than the best to tend to him and his family.

“Then I feel even more relieved,” I said, “knowing that you’ll be the one to help me get my memories back.”

The older woman looked at me, serious and professional, stating, “I will do my utmost to heal you, Rune. You have my promise.”

Our conversation was interrupted then by Fulla returning with a bundle of clothing and a pair of shoes sitting atop it.

“Here, child,” she said, shoving the bundle and shoes into my arms and turning me towards a beautifully carved and painted wooden dressing screen nearby. “Try these on.”

After having questions about how to put the clothes on, only to see Fulla’s head pop around the screen right when I had finished taking my shirt off, the woman had become instantly mesmerized with my breasts. Well, actually my bra, or “contraption” as Fulla had put it. Wheeling me back and forth to get all the angles around my body, she had a million questions. In the end, the appeal of a “supportive contraption” for the “bosom” had the seamstress very excited to make her own version. 

By the time we left, she had already had a duplicate in hand so that I could take my own with me. I couldn’t believe how quickly Fulla had made the bra, so I had asked Eir if the seamstress was a god of sewing, which made the woman laugh. Then, she had informed me about something called “seidr” that basically sounded like “magic” to my human ears. 

~ ~ ~

Nearly an hour later after originally setting out, Eir and I were finally making our way back to Healers Hall. 

I was wearing my new clothes: an ankle-length linen dress with no sleeves, topped with an apron in a pea-green color, “To match your eyes,” pinned at my shoulders. The apron ran the length of my body in a straight line, front and back, but the open sides showed my hips draped in a creamy white linen. The outfit was wonderfully comfortable.

As we entered the hall, Inger jumped up from her spot on the ground in front of the shelves, and rushed over to me, grabbing both of my hands and bowing her head. I winced over the throb of pain that shot through my wounded palm.

“I am so very sorry for being irresponsible with knowledge about you--our patient. It was unprofessional and a matter of great shame for me and Healer Eir. Will you please forgive me?” 

I was surprised at the apology, not having been particularly angry about Odin knowing I was human before Eir could inform him of it. But obviously Eir thought it serious enough to reprimand and punish her apprentice, so dismissing the need for the apology would probably not go over well.

I took my pained left hand out of Inger’s and gently placed it on her shoulder. She looked up.

“Thank you for the apology. All is forgiven,” giving her a light pat on the shoulder, to which the young healer smiled. 

“She who lives without discipline dies without honor,” Eir’s admonishing tone grabbing Inger’s attention at once as the older woman eyed her underling. The two healers looked at each other. Then, Inger gave a nod and returned to her work at the shelves. I watched as Eir gave a small smile to the girl’s back.

“You know,” I said, as I watched Eir move to check her papers on her desk, “you never answered my question. About why my world is forbidden.”

Her hand paused over the stack, and she let out a sigh. She didn’t seem irritated. It was more like she was hoping I would have forgotten. She sat down in her chair and gestured for me to do the same, seating myself across the desk from her. Inger had only paused for a moment to look at Eir’s back before returning to her work.

“The Frost Giants of Jötunheim wanted to claim Midgard for themselves and, in doing so, attempted to remove man from it. Odin Allfather was able to fight them back to their own realm, but the devastation left on the world of man led to the king’s forbiddance of any from the nine realms returning to Midgard,” she explained, her tone surprisingly somber for something that happened so long ago. 

_It’s not as if she’d been...oh..._

“Oh. Were you… Did you…?” I was tongue-tied. I didn’t know how to ask her if she had been in the battle or knew people who had fought, maybe died in it, without sounding insensitive.

“There were many lives lost on all sides,” she said simply, and I left it at that. She looked lost in her thoughts, her eyes unfocused and looking off into the distance over my shoulder.

 _So, Frost Giants. Those exist now,_ I thought, trying to absorb the new information without letting it tailspin me into an existential crisis. _And Odin saved the humans, both by fighting for us and then by keeping us safe, away from the other realms_. The more I learned about Odin, the more I was gaining respect for him.

“Odin--the king…,” correcting myself out of respect, “He sounds like a caring leader.”

“He is wise,” the healer said, her attention coming back to the here and now, “and he is the protector of the nine realms. He would do no less.” Eir was obviously proud to be under service to such a king. 

The hall had begun to darken as the sun set, and as Eir proceeded to light the lamps, she explained to me some daily chores of the hall, such as lighting the lamps at dusk each day, changing the bedding as needed, and basic chores that were performed to keep the hall clean and organized.

“Though I am unsure as to what sort of work Prince Loki will be assigning you,” she hypothesized, “you may as well know some general chambermaid duties. Unless you have a particular talent?” she asked, eyeballing me, to which I shrugged. “Then you will most likely be cleaning and running errands. Once you become familiar with the palace, that is.”

~ ~ ~

The next morning, I was awoken by a solid knocking on my door and Inger’s voice telling me it was time to get up. The small bit of sky I could see out of my window was just beginning to turn grey.

_Oof!_

I had slept terribly, tossing and turning. And what little sleep I had gotten was filled with dreams of odd flashes of light, sounds of waves crashing into rocks, and sensations of heat and cold prickling my skin, leaving me exhausted and confused. Another knock at the door had me grumbling, “I’m up,” from under my blanket. 

After taking a good chunk of time trying to feel my way around in the dark to light the lamp on the bedside table, I was dressed and headed out the door, meeting my shadow just outside.

“Morning, Kåre,” I yawned into the back of my hand. He gave me a nod, as expected, and we made our way to Healers Hall. Eir had explained the previous night as we ate dinner together that she and Inger procedurally had their meals in the hall in case any patients showed up and that I was welcome to join them. 

Both healers were already in the hall when I came in, seated around the desk. A nice breakfast was laid out with three settings. Inger was already starting to pick at the food. Morning greetings were given all around as we tucked into the alluring spread of eggs, fruits, bread, butter, and some sort of salty roe that I avoided after a small taste. Our breakfast was rather quiet other than muffled sounds of enjoyment and small comments about the food. Once we finished, I turned to Eir.

“Should I clean up?” I wanted to jump in and start pulling my weight.

“Prince Loki has sent along two notes,” she said, picking them up from the perpetual pile of papers at the corner of her desk and handing one over to me. 

"Girl" was the only word on the outside, messily scribbled. I rolled my eyes and followed Eir’s actions, opening the note. 

"Cause me no trouble, or you will regret it."

I flipped it from front to back in disbelief, sure there was something more written on the piece of paper, but there wasn’t.

 _Seriously? You had to send a note just to tell me that?_ I thought irritably.

I looked to Eir who had her lips pursed as she read her own note.

“It appears the prince wishes for you to serve where you are needed. You are to help here with what you can and then move to other areas of the palace to assist,” she said with a somewhat-forced smile. “You are to report back to me each evening, and I am to send him a report on your performance once a week.”

As I had thought before, Loki didn’t find managing a human--a _girl_ \--within the scope of his duties. Though I felt bad for the extra work and responsibility he was putting on the healer, I was also relieved that I wouldn’t be dealing with the man directly. That and the fact that I would be seeing Eir and Inger regularly. I was starting to really like them.

“I’m sorry you’re being given more work,” I apologized, feeling a bit like a nuisance.

“Never you mind,” the woman said, and in what was becoming typical-Eir fashion, she reached over to pat my hand in a reassuring way. “It is not my place to question the prince’s actions or how he chooses to fulfill his duties. We will make do.”

I doubted Odin would feel the same, but I wasn’t going to be the one to bring it to his attention. The less I had to do with his youngest son, the better in my mind. I clapped my hands together, making the other two jump and myself wince at the sting that shot through my left hand.

“So what are we doing today?” I asked.


	4. Ch. 4 - Kindling

Nearly two weeks passed by as I settled into my new life. Despite still having no memories as Eir did research for treating me, I was happily content. 

Eir and Inger’s constant companionship and the ever-busy goings-on of the palace kept me preoccupied. Assisting with basic chambermaid duties in Healers Hall had extended to fetching items from Fulla or the kitchens and being pulled into duties there, as well. I had learned the various halls and servants’ quarters that I sped through from one chore to another, but I still had yet to cover even a quarter of the palace by Kåre’s estimations, who had accompanied me every step of the way. He hadn’t become especially verbose in our time together, but he was no longer hesitant to answer my questions.

He had even become a bit cheeky. When I asked what his name meant, and he explained it meant curly-haired, I immediately asked him to take off his helmet and show me.

“‘Tis not the hair on my head that is curly,” was his reply, giving me such a quick wink that I nearly didn’t believe I’d seen it.

I laughed so hard and loud, uncontrollable giggles rolling through me, that a passing pair of guards gave me looks of curiosity and amusement. After I caught my breath, holding a stitch in my side for a bit, I told him not to do that again unless he planned on killing me. Bawdy jokes coming from his rather stoic face were just too much.

I was chuckling still as I walked into Healers Hall, returning from the kitchens after assisting with ingredient preparation for the midday meal. I could feel my face fall as I took in the arresting sight before me.

Nearly a dozen men littered half of the beds, all wearing their palace armor yet splashes of blood trickled out of the seams and vulnerable locations where the armor could do no good. They were all eerily silent, not a groan or plead for help from even one of them. Some looked angry while others appeared dazed. Eir was in her element, however, pointing and dictating direction to Inger, the helping servants, and the patients in turn.

“What happened?” I finally asked, not taking another step into the hall for fear I’d get in the way. The room felt overwhelmingly crowded compared to its more usual emptiness.

“Head Healer Eir!” called out Kåre from over my right shoulder. “Are there others?”

“Yes, thank you, Kåre,” replied the healer, finally spying us across the room. She wove her way through the tumult of bodies, continuing, “In the training courtyard. I believe there may be a few more that need assistance in getting here.”

Kåre nodded his head and left immediately. Eir turned to me.

“We are running low on gauze. Would you be a help and fetch as much as you can carry from Fulla?”

Following Kåre’s actions, I gave a nod and was off, only slowing down when I reached the upper walkway in the aforementioned courtyard. Below were a few armored men on their backs or sides, being moved by more able-bodied guards. I couldn’t make out which one was my shadow, all looking the same from above, so I moved on to the seamstress.

Fulla was more than happy to oblige to Eir’s supply request, handing me a large wicker basket full to the brim with clean linen strips. On top of the basket, she also laid what looked to be two bras she had made, instructing me to, “Try these on and let me know if they do the trick.” She had been periodically asking my opinion on each of her newest attempts at creating her own bras, playing with styles, shapes, patterns, and functionalities each time.

“Sure thing, Fulla,” I said, giving a quick smile and leaving with both of my arms looped through the basket handle to hold it up. The thing was surprisingly heavy considering it was a bunch of cloth.

By the time I made my way back to the courtyard, I had to put the basket down for a moment. The wicker handle had dug its way into my arms on the way there, causing me to rub at the pained spots as I looked back down over the courtyard. 

There were no more men strewn across the ground, but the once peaceful view of the autumnal tree was haunting now. Blood was everywhere. The pale cobblestones were painted red, rivulets of blood spreading its way amongst the cracks. The already fallen yellow leaves were made bright orange, trapped beneath the sticky pools.

_ What happened? _

A few servants had wandered out into the courtyard, buckets, mops, and rags in hand to clean up the mess. They went about their work as though it were nothing, chatting back and forth.

_ How can they be so nonchalant about this? _ I wrapped my arms around myself, a slight shiver going up my back.

“Is it not a pretty picture?” 

The voice had come from my left. Stepping out of a dark corridor, Loki strolled over to where I stood, gesturing down at the gruesome sight below us. 

“Only if you find gore appealing,” I replied, wary as to why he was bothering to talk to me, now, and here of all places.

“Do you not?” he asked. “Do you usually take time out of what I assume is a very busy schedule, being a servant and all, to take in the scenery? Even one so violent as this?”

I took another look down at the mess below and back to Loki, a look of haughty expectation on his face.

“I’ve just...never seen anything like this before,” I explained, adding under my breath, “At least, I don’t think I have.”

“The history of your people is steeped in blood,” he stated matter-of-factly, looking down at me and giving me a grin when I scowled back at him. He threw his hands up in mock defence. “Do not misunderstand me. Savagery is a law of the universe. One which I enjoy indulging in myself.”

He had moved closer, now standing next to me, one of his hands holding the railing as he smiled down at me. Warning bells were sounding in my head, making the hairs at the back of my neck stand at attention. I dragged my eyes away from his, landing on his hand that grasped the railing; a droplet of blood clung to the outside of his palm. Instinctually, I took a step back from him, taking in his appearance more fully now.

He was still dressed in blacks and dark greens, but bronze metal was strategically lining his arms and torso, skillfully woven into the leather material to form a more flexible type of armor. One intricately detailed shoulder shield and two matching vambraces--a word Kåre had introduced me to only last week--were the largest pieces. And today, he had a cape pinned across his shoulders as his brother had worn, the dark prince’s a mossy green color. I couldn’t see any other signs of blood on him, but I supposed the dark leather was great for hiding such things.

“Were you involved in this?” I asked, keeping my eye on him as I nodded my head in the direction of the “pretty picture.” When his smile widened, showing his teeth, I reached down quickly and grabbed the wicker basket, huffing a bit at the weight as I held it between us.

_ A pitiful shield if ever there was one _ , I thought, the irony not lost on me. Apparently, it wasn’t lost on him either, giving me an amused look.

Whipping a hand out faster than I could react, he grasped the basket’s handle. I rocked back on my heels, causing me to grip the basket tighter for stability, the basket not moving an inch. He was holding it up with one hand, and by doing so, eased the weight for me while also preventing me from leaving with it. 

“And what have you been doing to pass the time?” He leaned down to get a better view of the basket’s contents. His other hand gently rifled around, first picking up a roll of linen and dropping it back in the basket. Then, dangling from one of his long fingers, one of Fulla’s bras made an appearance. He cocked an eyebrow, looking at me questioningly.

“That’s none of your business,” I snapped, grabbing the bra and shoving it beneath the bandaging. I could feel my face growing warm as my irritation grew. A flicker of amusement sparked in his eyes, which only made me glare at him in frustration. “You would think being raised in a palace would have taught you better manners.”

The instant the words escaped my mouth, I regretted them.  _ Shut up. Shut. Up, _ I warned myself, but of course, it was too late.

“That mouth of yours may need to be taught some manners, girl.” 

Though his tone was low, his words were distinctly clear in my ears. The mocking grins were gone. Those cold, blue eyes and ticking muscle in his jaw had me taking a few steps back. Thankfully, he had released the basket, straightening himself to his full height again. 

“Run away, little rabbit.”

Not wanting to stay around and find out if he would go through with his not-so-understated threat, I immediately picked up my pace as I exited the courtyard walkway. I didn’t slow down a bit until I was back at Healers Hall, hastening to close the door behind me for a false sense of security. My heart was beating somewhere in my throat.

“There you are!” Eir cried out, coming over and taking the heavy basket from me with one hand as though it weighed little to nothing.

“Sorry! I got...held up,” I breathily apologized, racing alongside Eir as she distributed the rolls of bandages to Inger and the other assisting servants.

We spent the rest of the morning treating the wounds of a total of thirteen officers, some needing sutures while others required only small dabs of a pungent liquid Inger had grabbed from the shelves of vials. By the time we were finished, the guards had filed out of the hall, sent to rest in their beds for the remainder of the day by Eir’s direction. Not one of them had said a word about the incident that had made them all suffer. I was bursting to know what had happened but waited until our usual party of three sat down to eat our midday meal after washing up.

“What was that?” I finally asked, looking between Inger and Eir. “The courtyard looked like the scene of a massacre when I went by.”

Neither of the healers showed an ounce of shock during the entire morning, and even now, they both quietly ate their meals of fish, roasted vegetables, and fruits. After swallowing first, Inger piped up.

“That happens every few weeks or so,” she said, shrugging. My eyes must have gone comically wide because Inger started choking on a piece of food as she laughed. At that moment, Eir swallowed her bite.

“The officers often train with the princes, and as such, there are often superficial wounds that need tending,” she explained as though the men we had just treated had come in with small bruises and shallow scrapes.

“Are you saying the princes did that…? To all of those men?” my tone a bit disbelieving. “And that’s called ‘training?’”

“Those injuries are due to Prince Loki’s training, specifically,” the healer corrected. “He trains to sharpen his skills at wielding his knives, and in return, the officers learn to defend their more vulnerable spots. Such training is mutually beneficial.”

“They didn’t look too happy about it,” I pointed out.

“They were embarrassed,” Inger chimed in, grinning. “They believe it reflects poorly on their skills as warriors to be so badly beaten by the prince.”

“Embarrassed?” I half-laughed, images of some of the deeper puncture wounds swimming to the forefront of my mind. “Shouldn’t they be more worried about dying?”

Both healers looked at me, mildly taken aback. 

“Oh, the training is quite safe,” assured Eir. “Prince Loki is skillfully adept at wielding his seidr knives. The wounds are merely reminders to guard themselves better. The majority of the wounds will be healed by tomorrow morning.”

_ That’s right. Asgardians are made of tougher stuff _ , I reminded myself. 

Since I had been there, I had learned a lot about the resiliency of these people and their almost inhuman strength. Even Inger, though similar to me in height but much lighter in weight, could help the large guards out of bed and to their feet when my knees buckled under their weight. But the extent of the wounds and the amount of blood I had seen splashed across the courtyard sent a crawling feeling up my spine. 

_ Loki did that. To thirteen heavily armored guards. Alone. And then hung around to admire his art, the sadist. _

Recalling how I had insulted him just after he had gone on a cutting spree had the blood draining from my face, causing Eir to inquire about my health as she reached over to feel at my pulse on my wrist. I brushed it off, blaming my paleness on a delayed reaction to all of the blood I had seen that morning.

I wasn’t about to tell her or anyone else about the encounter with the dark prince and my insulting of said psychopath. 

~ ~ ~ 

I spent the next few days nervously waiting for a summons by Odin to address my disrespectful behavior to the prince, darting glances over to Eir every time a note was delivered or someone appeared in the doorway to the hall. 

But nothing ever came. The imaginary axe looming above my head never fell. It took a total of three days before I could walk out of my room in the morning and not immediately fear that someone was going to drag me away to the king or worse, Loki. Nightmares of him turning up around corners while I went about my tasks, drawing knives from nowhere, taunting me with threats to fix my smart mouth by removing my tongue left me tired and cranky.

But if I looked tired, Kåre could have been the walking dead. Since the training incident, every morning I was greeted with the sight of darkly shadowed, glassy eyes and a progressively mute companion. Not that Kåre had become particularly conversational during our time together, but now, he had regressed to nods and grunts. He had also become increasingly stuck to my side, no longer letting me enter the hall or kitchens alone while he stood sentry outside the room but, instead, staying no farther than an arm’s-length away. When I made a sudden stop while walking through the hall, it took him nearly crashing into me before I finally addressed the issue.

“Alright. What’s up?” I asked him, my hands on my hips. “You’ve transformed from a shadow to a pesky gnat. What’s going on?”

He stood there, mute as ever, staring over my head. I snapped my fingers right in front of his eyes, and all he returned was a dull blink. Eir had wandered over, looking at Kåre with the same look I had become accustomed to seeing when her healer’s mind switched on. She waved her hand gently in front of his face, looking for a response. Again, he only gave a comically slow blink.

“Kåre, would you please have a seat on the bed?” the healer asked gently, placing one hand on his arm and gesturing towards the nearest one. When he didn’t move, she suggested I go sit first and maybe he’d follow, which he did dutifully. I had to give a small tug on his arm to get him to sit next to me, though.

Eir gave an examination, making utterances of displeasure at her findings. Eventually, she retrieved something from the numerous vials and carefully fed a few drops into his mouth once she got him to open it. It took very little time before the tonic took effect, his eyes focusing on Eir and then turning to me.

“Has something happened?” he asked. “Why are we sitting here?”

“When was the last time you slept?” Now that she had broken his stupor, the healer was wasting no time.

“Three nights ago.” My mouth popped open in surprise.

“Mm-hm. What is causing your inability to sleep?”

The guard glanced over at me, and his cheeks flushed a light pink.  _ Is he embarrassed about something? _

“I have not had a reprieve from my duties,” he explained.

“Do you mean you’ve been guarding me all day and night for the past three days? With no rest, whatsoever?” I asked, unable to imagine that a person could do such a thing without dropping to the floor at some point.

“‘Tis my reprimand for shirking my duties,” he mumbled, again the look of embarrassment flushing his cheeks, “that day, when I left to assist in the courtyard.”

“What?” I nearly shouted. “But you were helping.”

“I am to guard you, without exception, while I am on duty. My abandonment of my post is punishable,” the guard explained, nodding his head in agreement with his own words. “I am grateful that I have not been removed from the post or received a harsher punishment.”

It seemed ridiculous to me, to punish a guard for helping his brothers-in-arms when needed. And to punish him by forcing him to guard me until he could no longer function was absurd. 

“But who would have reported you?” Inger had wandered over to join the conversation. Eir gave her a look of reproach.

“Whoever did so is not to blame,” said the head healer. “Now, I must insist that you return to your room to rest, Kåre.”

She hushed Kåre’s immediate refusal and went to retrieve something. After a few moments, she returned to the group, holding two sealed letters. She handed them to the half-conscious guard, instructing him to deliver one to his commanding officer and the other to the king himself before returning to his room. It was the healer’s official direction for the guard to be allowed rest before his health became too precarious, and being as respected a healer as she was, what she said was adhered to, from the lowliest servant up to the king himself.

As my exhausted shadow drifted away to be replaced by a fresh one who thankfully remained outside of the hall, I wondered if Inger didn’t have the right idea. Who would have reported Kåre? The officers had all seemed appreciative of the guard’s help that day. And Eir had been the one to ask Kåre to help, so she certainly wouldn’t have thought he deserved to be reprimanded.

_ Who would have known I was running around-- _

“That  _ jerk _ ,” I fumed, punching one of my fists into the mattress I was still sitting on. Luckily, both healers had gone back to their previous duties and hadn’t heard my outburst. I had still refrained from telling them about the encounter with Loki, hoping the entire thing would just become a bad memory.

I spent the remainder of the day running around the palace performing menial chores where I was needed as Eir had little use for me. And though my hands were kept busy, my mind was roiling with biting insults and growing anger for the person who deserved them. 

_...And to have the nerve to report Kåre for not being with me for a few minutes but turn around and make the guard useless with sleep deprivation… What an idiot. What an ass. What a-- _

Whatever else he was had popped out of my head because the living, breathing Loki had just caught my eye, walking alone, heading down an intersecting corridor. Unlike in my recurring nightmares, I felt no fear seeing him this time. No, I wasn’t the one being hunted down; it was his turn. 

I didn’t think twice before setting into a jog, just catching sight of him as he disappeared behind a door. My newly appointed guard had breathily run up behind me, giving me a look of confusion at my sudden change in pace.

“What’s in there?” I asked him, pointing at the door.

“Drawing room,” he replied, still nonplussed. 

Fueled by my day-long bad mood, little sleep, and not giving much forethought, I squared my shoulders, marched over to the door, and opened it with an aggressive flourish, stepping inside.


	5. Ch. 5 - Stirrings

“I need to say someth--,” I blurted out as I entered the room, only to be caught off guard.

Loki was reclined on a lounge near a large window, illuminated in the warmth of the sunlight spilling through while quietly reading. The terror of my nightmares enjoying a book was a sight I hadn’t expected, and it made me feel like I was interrupting something very personal. It seemed...intimate.

The vision had only lasted the briefest moment before his gaze left the page, having pinned me to the spot, mid-sentence, one hand still on the door handle and the other pointing in his direction. I remained frozen, something in me telling me not to move.

“Will you not come in?” he requested sarcastically, his eyes narrowing slightly over the top of the book.

I swallowed, my mouth dry at the moment. I awkwardly lowered my hands to my sides and took one more step in, leaving the door open. I glanced back to see my current shadow just outside the door, doing his duty. 

_ Thank goodness _ , a slight feeling of relief going through me at the thought that he was just a few steps away.  _ A witness _ .

“Closer.”

My head snapped back to the irritated creature on the lounge. He had lowered his book to rest on his knee, revealing his displeased expression. I took a few more steps, positioning myself equal distance between him and the door. My fingers fidgeted with my work frock, which had become uncomfortably warm. He said nothing but observed my nervous movements.

“Are you going to speak at some point?” he asked, one half of his mouth curling up into a sneer, adding, “Or has that mouth of yours finally learned some manners?”

_ You can kiss my-- _

“Out with it. I do not have infinite time to listen to your idiot ramblings, girl.” He gave a dull roll of his eyes as he placed his book on the table beside him.

_ Right. _

“ _ I _ wasn’t the one who punished a guard for aiding his injured fellows--at the request of the head healer no less--helping clean up a mess  _ I _ made. And  _ I _ wasn’t the one who jeopardized said guard’s ability to do his job by denying him rest for days on end,” my tone accusatory. Then, letting out a scoffing laugh, I added, “If you’re looking for an idiot, you may want to check your reflection.”

The low roaring of the fire that was burning in my belly kept me safe from the icy look he gave me.  _ That’s not going to work this time, buddy _ .

Silence filled the room. But there was a sense of something in the air, a feeling like crackling electricity. I placed my hands on my hips, cocking my head slightly. Then, raising my eyebrows in mock expectation, I asked, “Are you going to speak at some point?”

I thought I saw his lip twitch slightly, but his more unamused demeanor took precedence quick enough. 

“You seem to be acting under the misguided belief that the actions of a prince,” he explained, his words measured, “are of any concern of yours. But since you have found your way to me, I will take the opportunity to educate you on the subject matter.”

He slowly rose from his seat before continuing.

“The guard was tasked with monitoring a potentially dangerous prisoner, a fairly simple task to do and yet crucial for the protection of everyone in the palace. Had any other guard walked away from his duty to protect us all from such a threat, he would have been charged as a deserter, whipped, and dismissed if not exiled or executed.”

The warmth of my outrage had been doused in mere seconds, leaving behind what felt like a heavy stone settled at the bottom of my stomach.

The thought of Kåre being beaten and losing his position had me rethinking the seriousness of his brief absence. I liked Kåre, but I also could see why his actions that day in the courtyard could be construed as putting everyone else at risk. I was still an unknown entity--to both them and myself--roaming the palace, unchecked.

“Which do you believe he would have preferred?” he went on. “His due punishment? Or a few sleepless nights?”

“Thank you,” I said quietly, staring at a spot on the rug in front of his feet.

“I beg your pardon?” he cooed at me. “I do not believe I heard you correctly.”

“Thank you for not punishing Kåre that way,” I spoke to the ground. I was embarrassed at my outburst, but I was much more relieved that Kåre hadn’t received a worse punishment, now knowing what that would have meant.

“And what do you care for your guard? He is merely the jailor with your chains in hand.” Loki’s tone was cynical, snidely asking, “Or have you grown fond of him?”

“Yes,” I said directly, finally looking into his face. “He is a good person and has treated me kindly.”

Like my growing bond with Eir and Inger, I had grown friendly with Kåre, too. If I had to put a name to it, I honestly thought of them as my friends though I was unsure if they viewed me in the same light.

Loki didn’t speak but continued to stare at me.

“So yes, thank you,” I repeated.

“I did not spare him for you,” he said, his words dripping with condescension. “To lose a perfectly good guard would be wasteful. I do not want thanks from you, girl.”

He evidently wanted something, though. He continued to stare expectantly, waiting for something from me.  _ If he doesn’t want my thanks, then… _

“I’m sorry,” I quickly spoke, my eyes cast down at the rug again.

He said nothing, so I continued.

“For bursting in here,” I said, gesturing at the room. Then, I grudgingly added in a quieter voice, “And for being rude earlier...and the other day.”

I saw his boots move, taking a few steps towards me though still at a distance. The shrinking space and his movement drew my gaze back to his face. I couldn’t make out the strange look he was giving me, a mix of irritation, frustration, and something else. Without thinking, I reached up and rubbed the back of my neck where a tingling sensation had erupted.

“I should probably g--,” I began to say, but he cut me off.

“Your apology is unacceptable,” he said curtly, “not when you will only repeat the offense at the next opportunity.”

“You don’t know that,” I mumbled, frowning at him. My less-than-enthusiastic denial didn’t sound convincing even to me.

He grinned at me, the light from the window catching in his eyes. It was unnerving, like he was lit from inside.

“You have yet to learn anything,” he went on as he began to walk about the room, thankfully away from me. “So why would your behavior change?”

“I’ll try to do better in the future,” I offered, but he shook his head in disagreement, continuing his aimless stroll around the room. I had to turn to keep an eye on him.

“What you need,” he said, pausing to face me from across the room, “is a lesson.”

_ That doesn’t sound good. _

“What do you mean?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

“As a servant in this palace, your food, your clothing, even your freedom is given to you by the graciousness of my father,” he reminded me. “All of which can be taken away at any moment if you do not perform satisfactorily in your servant’s duties. Having been assigned the duty of overseeing you, it falls upon me to correct you in your mistakes, to instill proper servitude. Would you agree?”

The conversation had taken a turn to semantics, and though I didn’t like the idea of Loki being the one to “correct” me, I couldn’t deny that Odin had ordered him to keep an eye on me. I could also distinctly recall the king’s warning for me to behave or be at the mercy of his younger son, who I wholeheartedly believed practiced mercy sparingly, all of which had undoubtedly been used up with Kåre.

“I suppose so,” I begrudgingly conceded. Loki simply nodded and continued his meandering walk.

“As you seem to have a common habit of disrespecting me, I believe that should be addressed first,” he went on, again pausing to face me. He had somehow moved to within a few feet, close enough for me to notice the faint shadows under his eyes. Apparently, Kåre and I weren’t the only ones not sleeping well. Since I didn’t voice any disagreement, he continued with his lesson.

“You should properly address me as ‘your grace’ or ‘Prince Loki,’” he directed me.

_ I can do that _ , I thought optimistically. I nodded in acknowledgement.

“Then again, ‘master’ would suffice, as well.” The smile that appeared on his arrogant face expressed nothing less than pure ego.

_ In your dreams _ . I bit my tongue, though.

“I think I’ll stick with the first two options, thanks,” quickly adding, “your grace.” It seemed to be enough to mollify him as he turned away, allowing me a brief sigh of relief at his retreating figure.

“I feel you may have felt recently that I have been shirking my duties as your master,” he said calmly, his hands in a relaxed position joined behind his back.

_ Not going to let the ‘master’ thing go, huh? _

“Not particularly, your grace.”

He gave me a sharp look, and that same obscure urge to be flippant in the throne room weeks ago had returned; I suddenly wanted to laugh at him.  _ Where is that coming from? _ I was lucky enough to wrestle my face back into composure, staring off into the distance.

“Your mouth suggests otherwise,” he said, warning in his tone. “A bad habit that needs correcting.”

A small, soft clicking noise rang through the quiet room, followed by the grinding and sudden latching of metal into place. My head turned in the direction of the sounds to see Loki in front of a now closed and locked door, his back leaned against it, his hands behind his back. He was eerily still, that internal glowing in his eyes brighter now.

We stared at one another. His long, lean figure looked unhurried, while I felt increasingly nervous, my breathing picking up a pace. The prolonged silence in the room was finally broken by my stuttering.

“Wh-what are you doing?” I asked, my voice wavering. I hated how it sounded.

In a graceful movement, he pushed himself away from the door, taking a step towards me. Reactively, I took a step back, trying to maintain the distance between us. A look of amusement crossed his face, and he took another two strides, sending me skittering backwards.

“Just stay over there,” I said, pointing at him, which he ignored, taking another two strides.

Almost leaping back, I suddenly felt something hit the back of my calves, sending me inelegantly down onto the lounge he had earlier preoccupied. Its velvety upholstery was warm from the sunlight pouring through the window above it. I grew uncomfortably hot almost instantly, pulling at the collar of my frock.

Loki drew nearer only to take a seat next to me. His sudden proximity was driving my nerves haywire, sending me hopping off of the lounge within a breath. He smiled, almost laughing, in amusement at my jittery actions.

_ Definitely a sadist _ , I thought, crossing my arms in irritation.

He regarded me for a moment. Then, he tapped both of his hands on his thighs and gave me an expectant look. The motion clearly indicated for me to either sit or lay across his lap. Though both were humiliating to consider, I was fairly certain he meant the latter. When I didn’t move but just looked at him, disbelieving, he finally spoke.

“Come along, girl,” a mocking grin pulling at his lips. “The sooner we rectify your faults, the sooner you may leave here.”

_ He must be joking. _

“In your dreams,” I retorted, rolling my eyes.

“It was not a request,” he stated, his voice quiet. 

All humor had left his face as he stilled once again, watching me carefully. He was waiting for something, for  _ me _ to do something. I nervously glanced behind me at the closed door and back at him.

_ Can I make it out of the door before he can stop me? _

No sooner had the thought crossed my mind than his face changed. His mouth spread into a ghastly smile, his teeth flashing, while his eyes locked with mine, a wild, excited look making my body suddenly tense. 

_ Get out! Get out! Get out! _ screamed my brain.

I turned and bolted for my only escape route. I didn’t hear him move at all, so it was disorienting when his tall, dark figure suddenly appeared in front of the door. He was poised as if to catch me, that same feral look on his face, waiting to ensnare me. I yelped in surprise and skidded to a halt just a few feet from him. 

Almost immediately after stopping, I felt two strong hands grabbing me from behind. One arm had wrapped across my chest, pulling me back into a solid body, while the other hand had, only seconds earlier, clamped over my mouth to muffle the inevitable scream that came from my lips. 

“Quiet,” Loki warned in my ear, his face appearing over my right shoulder. 

His doppelganger, still blocking the door, gave me a look of mock sympathy and disappeared. I suddenly remembered Eir mentioning Loki’s adeptness at wielding “seidr” knives.  _ He knows magic, you idiot _ , I thought disparagingly.

“Good girl,” he said as I grew still, focusing on breathing made difficult from his unrelenting hand covering my mouth. The distinct smell of leather filled my nose, along with another smell I couldn’t identify.

“You really should not test me, girl,” his voice reverberating through me as my back was pressed into his chest. His mouth was close enough to my ear to feel his warm breath on it. I shook my head back and forth in small, frantic movements.

“Good girl,” he said again. Though I couldn’t see it, I could hear the smile in his voice. He was pleased. “Maybe not all mortals are dull-witted creatures.”

My fear was quickly lapsed by my immediate indignation.  _ Dull-witted?! _ I clenched my jaw, my spine stiffening. He gave a low chuckle, rumbling through me as well.

“Did I strike a nerve?” he asked, his tone dropping to an intimate level. 

A chill ran through me. 

In response, I felt his grip tighten around me. He turned his face towards mine, his nose gently pressed into my hair.

“How do you come to smell of moss and warm soil?” his voice low and intrigued. I jerked my head away from his, growing steadily more discomforted by the direction the conversation was turning. In the corner of my eye, I saw his head dip down to the crook of my neck, making my body seize up.

“You smell...familiar,” he spoke slowly, spreading his warm breath on my neck. A small sound rumbled up my throat, surprising myself. His breathing hitched.

For an agonizingly lengthy moment, neither of us moved or made a sound. Eventually, he let out one, long exhale before returning to deep and measured breaths. With the nearness of him, I wondered if he could hear my heartbeat, which was thrumming in my ears. Finally, he broke the silence.

“Consider this your one and only warning,” he threatened, the chill returning to his voice. “If you do not wish to repeat this encounter, it would be best not to provoke me.”

I nodded my head frantically.

“Then run, little rabbit,” and with that, his binding grip was gone.

I didn’t know how I got out of the room, everything a blur until I felt a painful stitch in my side, my body desperately trying to catch its breath. I leaned against the cool, stone wall in the corridor I had found myself in. 

Then, distantly growing louder than the blood beating in my ears, I could hear heavy, armored footsteps catching up to me. My head whipped up from my doubled-over position, preparing to run again if it was  _ him _ . 

But it wasn’t. It was my shadow, wearing the same confused expression as the one I left him with before entering the drawing room. I gratefully slumped back over, my body flooding with relief at the sight of him.

As we walked back to Healers Hall, I didn’t offer any explanation to the guard, and he didn’t demand one though he continued to keep one eye fixated on me, no doubt in preparation for my next sprint. That moment was the only time I felt happy not having Kåre at my side. Had he been there, I would have felt obligated to give him an explanation for my odd behavior today. I didn’t even have an explanation for what had happened in that room.

~ ~ ~ 

Back at Healers Hall, I spent the rest of the day in a fog, performing tasks with little awareness because my brain was preoccupied with tormenting me. Flashes of the incident repeated over and over in my head, each one triggering rushes of emotions that I wasn’t equipped to handle just yet. As a result, Eir had the unfortunate experience of tapping me on the shoulder when I didn’t respond to her call, only to watch me whip around, terrified, my face blanching. 

“My dear!” she exclaimed, her concern immediate. 

She grabbed me by the shoulders as I started to feel weak-kneed. She sat me on one of the beds and then drew up a stool to sit in front of me. She reached out to feel my pulse on my wrist.

It took several minutes of me reassuring her that I had just been surprised, that nothing was wrong, that I felt fine, before she eventually acquiesced and returned to her work. 

At the end of the day, the three of us sat around the desk, eating our evening meal of a hearty stew and bread. Inger kept trying to spark up a conversation with Eir and I, but I could only seem to give monosyllabic responses. Once we finished, Eir asked Inger to clean up while she and I took a stroll, an activity the two of us had done a handful of times before.

I hadn’t really paid much attention to where we walked until I heard our echoing footsteps on the wooden walkway of the courtyard. My eyes snapped open, darting around me, trying to see into the darkened corners and corridors around the courtyard. Eir must have seen my suddenly alert nature, for she gently took me by the shoulders and turned me to face her. In the light of the moon that was spilling into the open courtyard, I could see Eir’s concern.

“I wanted to speak with you about some things, Rune,” she began, soothing me with her calmness. She let go of my shoulders and turned to look at the night sky. I did the same, but apprehension ruined the beauty of the Asgardian stars. 

“I cannot help but notice a change in you,” she tried putting delicately, “since you returned this afternoon.”

I could see her turn her head towards me, but I kept blankly staring at the sky, not really seeing anything.  _ Do I tell her? What would she say? Would she blame me for what happened? _ A quick and powerful feeling of embarrassment washed over me.

“If you do not wish to tell me what happened,” she continued after my hesitancy to speak, “I will not pry.”

I gave a small sigh of relief.

“However, I must ask if there is anything I may do to help,” she said, turning to face me.

I looked at her friendly face, and my gratitude for having Eir in my life was overwhelming. I suddenly reached out and hugged the woman, and I was comforted to feel her arms wrap around me in turn.

I finally stepped back after a moment and gave her a small smile.

“Thank you for that,” I said, “and for not asking me to explain. I will tell you, but...I just...I need time to understand it myself. Does that make any sense?”

“That is, of course, your choice to make,” she said with a look of sympathy, “but it may hinder the treatment’s effectiveness. That was the other matter I wished to discuss with you. I have finished my preliminary research and would like to begin treatment soon.”

I could only blink at Eir’s news, my mind at warring factions with itself. I still had no desire to relay the day’s events to anyone; however, doing anything I could to recover my past should be my priority.

_ Then, why am I hesitating? _

“When did you want to start?” I asked.

“Would tomorrow evening after our meal be amenable?”

That gave me a day to figure out my thoughts. It wasn’t much time, but the thought of regaining some sense of myself with the treatment was alluring and would have to be motivation enough.

I gave her a nod.

“I am glad to hear it,” said the healer, turning to take us back towards the hall.

“Wait, please.”

Having come to some sort of actionable decision in regards to Loki, there was something I needed from Eir. The healer looked at me quizzically.

“I know I don’t have any right to ask you for something,” I began, fumbling for how to put my request that didn’t sound strange, “but if I could...stay closer to the hall...for my duties…”

The woman considered me for a moment before answering.

“I will see what I can manage,” she spoke gently but also carefully. “The kitchens have come to rely on your assistance, so you may still be summoned there. However, I believe your time would be suitably delegated between the hall and kitchens for now.”

I could feel my heart sinking a bit.

“Do not fret, my dear,” Eir said soothingly when she saw my disappointment. “The hall and the kitchens are two places where...certain members of the palace rarely occupy.”

I gave a quick look at Eir’s face, but she only gave me another sympathetic smile. 

_ Does she already know? Does she know who I’m trying to avoid? _

Whether she knew or not, the fact was that the woman was making an effort to help me avoid another instance like the one earlier that day. I reached out to take one of Eir’s hands, giving it a squeeze, and thanked the healer again.

“She falls not whom true friends help forward on her way,” was her response.

~ ~ ~ 

When I opened my door the next morning, I was pleasantly surprised to see Kåre standing there, back to his usual quiet but alert self. We exchanged morning pleasantries and made our way to the hall where both Eir and Inger were just as pleased as myself to see the return of my shadow. Inger seemed to be particularly happy to see the young man, making a point to laugh perhaps a bit too exuberantly when he mentioned how he had, “Never slept better. Except being knocked unconscious in training and waking days later in one of these beds.”

Eir had kept to her word, finding much for me to do within the hall that day. As autumn began to settle around the palace, changes were necessary to keep the hall functioning properly through the upcoming winter. This meant that stock piles of summer and fall supplies, plants and fungi mainly, needed to be properly stored and cataloged for the healers’ uses. Inger and I spent the bulk of our day meticulously curating each herb before properly pressing or hanging each specimen. My ever-curiosity had me asking questions about each one as we progressed, enthralled with the medicinal properties of each. 

_ Each one feels so distinctly different _ , I noted as I gently handled them.

Some even required wrapped hands before touching them, which Eir left to her apprentice’s and not mine. I didn’t feel remotely offended, knowing how dangerous those items were.

_ The smell of them alone would send animals scampering _ , I thought critically, plugging my nose as they passed by me in Eir’s hands. I pinched my nose and covered my mouth with one hand as the healer went by a third time, giving off ever-increasing scents of rot and excrement. Eir stopped on her return, noting my pinched nose, raising her eyebrows in curiosity.

“Do you smell something, Rune?” she asked, both healers now looking at me with their twin knitted brows.

“Whichever plant that is smells absolutely terrible!” I complained beneath my hand that was still masking my mouth and nose.

“You can smell the henbane from over there? That is one impressive nose you have,” she said, giving me a smile of approval. “Maybe I should take you out truffle hunting this winter. Your nose may be more useful than the palace hogs.”

“I wonder if that is a human trait?” Inger thought aloud.

I had no point of reference to compare to, so I shrugged my shoulders at her.

Despite all of the tedious hours working together, we still had at least another half of a day’s work remaining when Eir put a stop to it. The day had passed by so pleasantly that I hadn’t noticed the sun had already set, and I hadn’t allowed myself much thought to Loki. Every time he had popped into my head, my mind had avoided the subject matter by asking Inger another question about whichever plant I had in hand.

Now as we sat together, eating our meal of a rich pea soup seasoned with chunks of bacon and served alongside dried fruits and honey for dessert, I forced myself to face the matter.

Loki had scared me, maybe intentionally. He certainly seemed to enjoy how nervous he could make me.  _ Like a cat toying with a mouse _ , I thought bitterly. But maybe that was his intention all the time, to scare me into behaving. I had to admit that he hadn’t actually struck me or hurt me in any way. Just laying his hands on me was enough to terrify. Reliving the feel of his hand over my mouth and his voice in my ear… 

I could feel my face beginning to redden, ducking my head down towards my soup bowl.

_ Why am I embarrassed? _ I thought frustratedly. Then another part of myself answered. 

_ Are you sure that’s not why you’re trying to avoid him? _

_ Shut it _ , I thought, trying to censor my thoughts. But then that voice spoke up again from somewhere in me.

_ Why are you trying to hide from him?  _ it pushed, needling me.  _ Because you don’t want to put yourself in such a position with him again? Or because some part of you wants to be near him again? And  _ that _ scares you. _

_ No. Nope. No,  _ I denied, digging the handle of my spoon into my palm, squeezing it as though it were my own thoughts, trying to quash them.

A familiar hand reached over and gently enveloped my balled fist. Eir was watching me closely.

“Shall we begin your first session and let Inger clear the table?” she suggested. 

I gave her a nod, and we both rose and proceeded out of the hall and to my room. Eir had suggested I be in as relaxed a state as possible, my bed being my first thought. 

After dressing for sleep, I tucked myself under my covers and laid back against my pillow. Eir proceeded to place a thin ban of metal across the width of my forehead, the ends resting just above my temples. Every bit of the small band was covered in tiny markings too small for me to make out in the brief moment it passed before my eyes. She then laid a soft strip of cloth over my now closed eyelids, there to keep them shut.

“Do I have to be blindfolded?” I asked, a bit uncomfortable that I couldn’t see Eir seated next to me.

“Denying your eyes their sight should theoretically trigger your brain’s capacity to picture imagery and, hopefully, memories,” she explained softly. “As well, the device I will be using to monitor your mind’s responses projects an image that may distract from the treatment.”

After a brief pause where I only heard Eir making small movements somewhere above me, she finally began with a few preliminary checks, such as asking me to remember what we ate for dinner and what we spent the day doing. I assumed whatever the device was showing her was performing properly when the healer asked her next question.

“It is paramount in the beginning of your treatment that you do not feel stressed,” she explained. “Because of this necessity, I must ask if there is anything you wish to divulge to help relieve any anxieties you may be harboring.”

I took a slow, steadying breath in, and let it go.

“I..I had...I was…,” I stumbled for my words, not sure how to explain or where to even start.

“Do you wish to tell me what happened between you and Prince Loki yesterday?”

_ So she does know something _ , I thought with relief. Eir already knowing that it involved Loki and that she kept that knowledge to herself felt like a weight lifting off of me. She hadn’t treated me any differently though she knew something had happened involving the prince.

“I made a mistake. More than one, actually. In front of the prince,” I vaguely explained, keeping the specific details to myself. “I was disrespectful, and the prince...corrected me. And...and I was embarrassed.” 

Recalling my traitorous thoughts from earlier, I could feel my cheeks flushing again. Eir took only a brief moment before I felt her hand patting mine.

“No one is a total fool if she knows when to hold her tongue,” she advised. “Take this opportunity to learn from your errors and choose to do better in the future.”

Though I wholeheartedly agreed with her, I seriously doubted my capabilities at restraining my tongue when it was so easily provoked around Loki. I gave her a nod anyway.

“Try not to fret too much over the matter,” she soothed. “We all falter when we first take steps. You will learn and adapt, Rune. You are already doing amazingly well in your work.”

The praise resulted in a full feeling expanding my chest, knowing that Eir was not one to give unwarranted praise. Observing her balance of correction and reward when working with Inger over the past weeks had revealed as much.

“Shall we begin, then?” she asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a bear to write.


	6. Ch. 6 - Innate Proclivities

I awoke the next morning before Inger managed to knock on my door as she did every morning. I couldn’t remember ever falling asleep, the lulling sound of Eir’s voice and a soft, cottony feeling filling my head being the last moments I could recall. The sleep had been sound but dream-filled.

Flashes of a great, gnarled tree had kept appearing, accompanied by sensations of traveling at dizzying speeds. The other constants were appearances of my tormentor though now he no longer chased after me with sharp blades. No, he had progressed to cornering me in inescapable rooms, uttering thematically different threats, ones that had me shifting uncomfortably and waking feeling feverish.

I splashed some water on my face and neck from the basin in my room, trying to alleviate the heat of my skin before getting dressed. Once finally composed, I headed out to meet Kåre, who was quietly conversing with Inger a ways down the corridor.

 _That’s interesting_ , I mused, curious how often these morning tête-à-têtes had been occurring.

“Morning,” I drawled, giving them both a grin when they nearly jumped away from one another.

“Oh! You are already awake,” stated the young healer, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. Kåre made no remark but gave me his usual nod of greeting.

The three of us made a silent trek to the hall, the two painfully trying to ignore one another while in front of me. Without a word, Inger and I left the guard outside the hall door to have our morning meal with Eir, who had already set the desk in preparation for us.

“We will be finishing the stores this morning,” Eir explained, turning to me and adding, “and the kitchens have requested that you assist them in canning and preserving the season’s final harvests. You will most likely be serving there for the remainder of the day.”

I gave her a nod and smile.

“And you slept well?” she inquired. 

Eir was pleased with my affirmative response and even intrigued by some of the dreams I chose to divulge. 

“Memories can be found in dreams,” she remarked, encouraging me to think on them in hopes they would spark something.

Considering who was frequenting my dreams, I didn’t want any sparks forming from memories of _him_. I decided to shove Loki to the back of my mind, then. There was work to do.

The morning was spent finishing the stores, Inger continuing with my edification. After midday meal, Kåre and I headed to the kitchens, the herbaceous scents following me on my clothes and hair. Once in the kitchens, the now familiar scents were mixed with the warm, welcoming smells coming from the wood stoves and large pots boiling over open fires. I inhaled deeply, smiling. 

Somewhat similar to the stores in Healers Hall, preparing and preserving the various harvestables was filled with lessons on the strange and varied fruits, vegetables, and herbs of Asgard. At least in the kitchens, however, some of the items were familiar at first sight, such as the various berries, melons, and even the oddly-shaped eggplant. There were plenty others to learn, though, and various ways to prepare and preserve them for the upcoming winter, from drying to fermenting and even salt packing some.

Spying a box full of fresh strawberries among the kitchens’ deliveries, an idea struck me. Asking the head chef if I could set aside a bowl of strawberries for my personal use once the day’s work was done, I was given an indifferent shrug of the shoulders and left to my own devices.

Despite the busy day, I felt exhilarated when I finally was able to put my idea to practice. The strawberries would make a sweet treat for Eir as a thank you. She had always commandeered the largest strawberry from each fruit plate we had at meals, so I had little doubt of her enjoyment of the dessert that was vaguely formed in my head.

With Eir in mind, I set about gathering ingredients, receptacles, and utensils. The chef who had remained to finish planning for the next day’s meals watched me as I moved about his kitchen. 

“Whatcha makin’?” he gruffly asked at one point as I began sifting dry ingredients together in a bowl.

“Hmm, I’m not too sure just yet,” I said. “Something light, spongy, but delicately sweet.”

“ _Brjálaður_! How ya gunna cook somefin’ wiffout knowin’ whatcha makin’?” asked the chef with a hearty snort.

“I...have no idea,” I said, laughing a bit at myself.

My hands seemed to work of their own volition, moving through the ingredients as though they had done this many times before. The only thoughts I had in the process were small revelations; whipping the cream in a chilled bowl would yield better results, and the lightly golden cakes rising in the oven were paired best with fresh berries.

The cakes were baked and cooled, the cream whipped, and the berries rinsed, stemmed, and sliced with a few whole ones left for decorative purposes; only then did I put my hands on my hips and look at the chef. He had drawn up a stool nearby, watching me with some interest.

“Would you help me by gathering some plates?” I asked hopefully. I had more than enough to feed not only Eir but also Inger, Kåre, Fulla, and the entire kitchen staff.

Together, we layered cream and sliced berries between two cakes on each plate, decorating the tops with delicate swirls of the same cream. Layered slices of strawberries were fanned atop each one in the shape of a flower, and a whole strawberry was set to the side on each plate, cream puffing out from its center.

“Hope they taste as good as they look,” I mused aloud, appreciating our efforts once we finished.

Setting aside four of the cakes to take back with me, the chef was pleasantly surprised when I told him the remaining cakes were for him and the rest of the kitchen servants. After cleaning up, I grabbed my plates, balanced on a serving tray the man had pushed into my hands, and headed for the evening meal with my usual companions. 

First dropping off a cake to the seamstress, who gave me a strong hug in return, my shadow and I entered the hall to the pleasant surprise of the healers. At my request to see him eat the cake, Kåre even joined us at our meal, something he had never done before. Eir was pleased to have a fourth at the table, and I noticed that Inger would likely have sore cheeks from smiling too much.

The day had been lovely, and the evening’s company provided pleased eating noises and smiles all around. 

However, by the end of dessert, to which I didn’t partake because I had forgotten to make one for myself-- _way to go, genius_ \--I was nearly unable to keep my eyes open. At one point, I involuntarily slumped over in my chair, only catching myself against Kåre’s broad shoulder. 

“Are you well, Rune?” asked Eir, the concerned expression becoming a regular feature.

“I’m just very tired,” I said in a somewhat lethargic manner. But it felt like more than the aches and fatigue of a long day’s work; I felt barely able to stand, even holding myself in an upright position in my chair becoming taxing.

“You look about to collapse,” Inger observed.

At the word of the head healer, I was soon escorted to my room, both Inger and Kåre having one of my arms held around each of them for support. As my door closed softly behind their retreating figures, I felt myself slipping into a soundless, dreamless sleep.

~ ~ ~ 

“Rune? Rune?! _Rune!_ ”

I snapped my eyes open. Inger was standing over me, shaking me by my shoulders and nearly yelling my name.

“Thank the heavens,” she sighed when I looked at her. “You would not respond to my knock or even the call of your name.”

I gave her a large yawn in response, sluggishly pushing myself to an upright position. I felt exhausted. 

_A lot of good sleep did me_.

“I will wait for you in the corridor,” she said, giving me privacy to get ready for the day and most likely taking every moment she could get with my awaiting shadow.

I took my time in getting ready, something I’d have much rather done for Inger’s sake than due to my surprisingly drained state. Shuffling my feet along the stone floor, I finally made my way out of my room.

The two were just outside my door this morning and standing the width of the corridor apart from one another. Inger had her arms folded across her chest, looking away from the young guard, who turned to greet me as I emerged. 

“Good morning, Rune,” he said with a smile on his face. An actual smile. I looked at him warily for a moment.

“What makes you so cheery today?” I asked, noticing Inger watching Kåre carefully out of the side of her eye.

“I was just telling Inger how much I enjoyed our shared meal last night and your cake,” he readily supplied. “‘Twas a pleasure to spend time with the three of you.”

I didn’t understand why that would have made Inger upset, noticing her hands balling into fists beneath her arms.

“It was a nice evening together,” I agreed, walking over to where Inger stood. At my approach, she unfurled her arms and allowed me to hook one of mine through hers. She gave me a small smile as I began to escort us down the corridor at my tortoise-like pace.

When we left Kåre at the entrance to the hall, I could feel Inger’s tension ease out of her. _Poor girl. I’ll have to ask her about all of that sometime_ , I thought.

Unexpectedly, she turned and looked me in the eyes, a smile returning again.

“I like having you here with us, Rune,” she said to my surprise. “You have brought a lot of life to the hall since you arrived.”

“Um, thank you…,” I said a bit awkwardly, not sure how to react to the sudden confession. She gave me another smile and walked away to start her tasks for the day.

“How are you feeling today, Rune?” asked Eir who came through the door, a stack of fresh bed linens piled high in her arms.

In response, I reached out to take the top half of her load but only got a few steps away from her before dropping them on one of the nearby stripped beds.

“Clearly not fully recovered,” she said, a grim line settling across her lips. 

I was shunted into a chair at the desk and handed a stack of papers to assist Inger in the supply checks for the hall, reading out the numbers to the young healer as she checked their stores, affirming count and noting any deficiencies. Eir was a solitary figure, remaking the beds with the fresh linens though no one had used them since the visiting officers.

Abruptly, someone burst through the hall door, our quiet and rather dull proceedings interrupted by a visitor. It was the chef who had kept me company in the kitchens the previous evening. He came over to the desk where I sat and gave me a toothy grin and a wave of his rather calloused hand.

“Hi ya,” he said, not giving time for a response. “I gotta take ya somewheres. It’s a surprise.”

And without more prefacing, he came around to take my arm and haul me out of my comfortable resting spot. At the appearance of the burly cook, Eir had made her way over to where we stood.

“Andhrímnir? Where are you taking Rune?”

“I was told to fetch the _dauðleg kona_ ,” was his simple response. I expected more questions from Eir, but she easily allowed me to be swept away after instructing the man to not work me too strenuously.

As I tripped alongside the man’s rather quick pace, I wondered what had happened in the kitchens to send the chef over to gather me himself. _But didn’t he mention it was a surprise?_ I looked over at the chef, but he stared straight ahead. Andhrímnir didn’t say much while we walked with Kåre quietly marching along behind us, but after taking a turn down a corridor that led in the opposite direction from the kitchens, I finally spoke.

“Are we not going to the kitchens?”

“Nah,” he said. “Ya’ve been summoned.”

“Summoned?” I croaked, a sudden lump sticking in my throat. “By who? Why?”

“Ya’ll find out soon ‘nuff.”

 _Loki. It has to be Loki_ , my mind thought frantically. I could feel my breathing begin to pick up its pace. I glanced back at Kåre who met my eye and gave me a small, brief smile.

 _Kåre is with you. You’ll be okay,_ I tried consoling myself, spending any time alone with Loki at the top of my things-to-avoid list. I took in a few deep breaths, trying to calm my nerves.

We walked a fair distance, setting foot into parts of the palace I had yet to visit. I began to grow more uneasy as the decorum had shifted from clean, stone floors and walls to tapestried passages, magnificent paintings, and what looked to be antique relics now prominent down each corridor we turned. The luxurious items made it clear that this was the part of the palace occupied by the royal family.

We eventually came to a stop in front of a set of closed double-doors midway down one of the decorated corridors. My culinary companion opened one of the polished and ornamentally gilded doors, motioning with his head for me to go through. I hesitated, quite unable to make my feet move, and was unceremoniously pushed along by the chef’s large hand at my back. 

Nearly falling into the room, I caught myself and proceeded to nervously look around for the dark figure of Loki, but he was nowhere to be seen. 

Instead, resting comfortably in a high-backed, cushioned sitting chair was the queen. Donning a deep burgundy gown with a burnished, rose gold chest piece that rose up her rib cage to cup her breasts, she looked the part of a warrior queen. Rising to greet us, she stepped over to where we stood and took my hand in hers, giving me a warm smile.

“My dear, it is so lovely to see you again.”

“Y-Your grace,” I stuttered. 

Then, unthinkingly, I attempted an off-balanced curtsy on fatigued legs, sending me head first towards the queen. I was stopped almost immediately, though, by three sets of hands grasping various parts of my shoulders and arms.

“Are you well, dear?” she asked, helping me over to the couch arranged next to her chair, both set before a crackling fire pit. The windows along one wall were thrown open to allow the room to breathe. The contrasts of the cool air and the warming fire sent bumps erupting along my exposed arms. I didn’t mind the juxtaposing sensations, though; if anything, they made me more alert.

“I’m just a bit tired, your grace. Excuse me for losing my balance,” I apologized, embarrassed.

She seated herself in her chair, adjusting her position to better face me, so I did the same. Andhrímnir had sat himself next to me on the couch at the gesture of the queen while Kåre stood as sentinel just to the side of her. She looked at me for a moment before speaking.

“Have you had any success with Head Healer Eir in retrieving your memories?” she inquired.

“I just began treatment two nights ago,” I informed her. “There hasn’t been any change yet, your grace.”

“Hmm,” was her only response before continuing her questions. “Have you found the palace work satisfactory? Have you been treated well?”

Ignoring the glaring exception, I nodded enthusiastically.

“Everyone has been very kind to me.” Glancing up, I saw my shadow give a smile. 

“And the work has been fascinating,” I continued a bit excitedly, enthusing over how stimulating the past few days had been while learning about the properties of the plants in the healers’ stores. Queen Frigga smiled indulgently at me.

“I am very pleased to hear you are getting on well in your place here in the palace,” she said pleasantly. “And I hope to hear more good news as your treatments progress. However, I imagine you are curious as to why you have been brought to me.”

I hadn’t been so much curious as worried. I didn’t imagine that being summoned by the queen was usually a good thing among servants, despite how kind the queen was being.

 _Does she know I’ve been disrespectful to her son?_ I suddenly wondered. _Has she called me here to reprimand me? She’s being awfully nice if that’s the case. And what reason would she have to bring_ _Andhrímnir into this?_

“Did I do something wrong?” I asked quietly, deciding to face the music if that were the case.

“Oh, no, my dear,” the queen assured me, “quite far from it.”

She reached over to the table seated between us, bringing forward a plate covered by a napkin. Lifting the cloth, she revealed the remnants of one of my cakes from last night.

“I hear from our head cook that you are the one who made this.” 

She wasn’t asking for me to confirm, but I nodded nonetheless, glancing at said man who gave me another toothy grin as he joined the conversation.

“Saw ‘er make it meself, your grace,” he confirmed. “Was a wonder to watch ‘er.”

It was a compliment, a small grin pulling at the corners of my mouth.

“You have every right to feel proud, Rune,” said the queen as she observed me. “This was quite a unique cake.”

 _She remembers my name_ , I thought, a little surprised.

“It’s really a simple cake,” I pointed out, a little bashful. “I’m glad you enjoyed it, though.”

“I certainly did enjoy it,” she said, taking a small pause before adding, “So much so that I want to request a favor of you.”

“A favor?” I asked stupidly. She only continued to smile pleasantly.

“I would like for you to make something for my son. He has been sullen as of late,” she explained with a soft look of concern in her eyes and around her mouth. “He has a sweet tooth, and I am hopeful that something you create will raise his spirits.”

“I would be happy to make something for Th--Prince Thor,” I caught myself, trying to remain respectful.

“Oh, no, dear. I am asking for my youngest son, Loki.”

My brain had seemed to seize up, an empty nothing taking up residence. I could only look at Queen Frigga and blink. Suddenly, a solid hand gave me a rather heavy hit behind my shoulder.

“Wha’ a great opportunity, cookin’ for a royal family member,” said the chef enthusiastically. “Betcha didn’t ‘spect that.”

“N-No…I really didn’t,” I said with all honesty.

 _What did I do to deserve this?_ I thought despairingly. _Why does the universe hate me?_

“I am confident you will do well if that is your concern,” bolstered the queen, pulling me out of my internal pity party. “I simply wish for you to make something as you did with your cake.”

_I can do that. Maybe… Maybe I can just make the cake and… and then have one of the kitchen servants take it to Loki. I won’t even have to see him!_

“Of course, your grace,” I finally agreed. “I’ll make something for him.”

“Splendid,” she said with a smile. “If you would consult Prince Loki on a flavor palette--”

“ _What?!_ ” The pitch of my voice caused everyone in the room to jump in surprise. I could feel my face flush from embarrassment again. “I’m sorry.”

“Would making a different sort of dessert be beyond your skills, my dear?” asked the queen, interpreting my obviously disconcerted response to be due to the type of dessert I’d have to make, not the person I was being asked to make it for.

“No, your grace.”

“My son can be a bit...particular in his tastes,” she elaborated, her hesitancy in her word choice evident. “So as a matter of ensuring he enjoys the treat, I believe consulting him would be best. I would hate to spoil it by choosing wrongly for him.”

 _Wow, what a considerate mother_ , I thought with a tinge of jealousy. _Does she know her son’s a sadistic jerk?_

“The princes are to return from their visit to the village sometime in the afternoon. If you are not too busy with your work, I will have a servant notify you upon his return.”

_Later today? So soon?_

My worries were put on hold for the moment as the queen rose from her chair, the chef and I jumping to our feet while Kåre went to open the door for us to take our leave. I blindly followed alongside the queen who had taken my hand to walk me to the door.

“Thank you,” I mumbled, only partially aware of what my body was doing, my mind unable to catch up to the present. 

“I truly appreciate your willingness, my dear,” she said. “And perhaps you should ask Head Healer Eir for some time to rest today. You truly do not look well.”

When she placed a gentle hand on my cheek, looking concernedly at me, I gave her a nod in response. After receiving her satisfied smile, our party of three exited the queen’s drawing room.

I remained in a fog as we made our way back to the familiar areas of the palace. On more than one occasion, Kåre had to take me by the arm, leading me down the correct corridors as I had a tendency to continue walking forward rather than following my two escorts. After the third time, however, Kåre remained at my elbow to guide me the remainder of the way, even after we entered the halls and corridors I had come to know like the back of my hand.

Upon entering the hall, Kåre continued to steer me over to Eir, explaining my odd behavior and the queen’s recommendation for rest. After giving me a quick once-over with her keen healer’s eye, she excused me to my room for the remainder of the day. My shadow, of course, trailed me along the way, assuring he would notify me once word of Prince Loki and Thor’s return had reached him. He left me perched on my bed.

Now alone, I sat, staring down at my shoes peeking out from under my skirts; eventually, I shifted to lie on the bed and stare up at the stone ceiling. 

_What am I going to do?_ I thought dully.

~ ~ ~ 

By the time mid-afternoon had come and I heard the gentle knock on my door, I had felt better prepared to face Loki. Nothing much had changed in my predicament except that my fatigue had seemed to evaporate during my solitude, of which I had spent an exorbitant amount of time attempting to figure out a way around meeting with him, with no success. 

Once the inevitability settled in, I had created a few guidelines for myself to minimize the undoubtedly unpleasant experience I was about to have.

First, I would keep Kåre next to me unless he was strictly forbidden to do so. If Loki demanded that… Well, I didn’t have a contingency plan in place just yet.

But being alone with Loki was not an option, which brought me to my second rule: Don’t enter his room. I could just as readily speak to him in a corridor as a room. No closed doors.

Lastly, I planned on brevity. Get his tastes and get out. There was no need to make the ordeal lengthier than necessary. I had even considered simply relaying a note to him, but I felt that the queen clearly expected an in-person exchange, which was why she had sent someone to notify me of his return. Besides, reasonably speaking, had I any questions about his response, I’d either have to waste time exchanging correspondence or bite the bullet, so to speak, and seek him out anyway.

Whether or not my plans would be successful had yet to be seen, but at the very least, I felt somewhat comforted in repeating my rules over and over during my time alone. I continued to run through them in my mind-- _Keep Kåre near, no rooms, be quick_ \--as Kåre and I made our way back across the palace.

 _What a lot of bother,_ teased my traitorous mind. _All of this worry just because you--_

“Shut it!” I snapped aloud, receiving a confused and slightly offended look from Kåre as we marched along.

“Just talking to myself,” I mumbled, giving an apologetic smile and dismissive wave of my hand. The remainder of our walk was mute.

Kåre and I finally came to a halt near another guard standing watch over an odd-looking corridor entrance. It looked pitch black inside. Outside of it, the decorative corridor we stood in became almost glaringly bright, its creamy stones and ornamental decor making the dark corridor appear in comparison as an infinite hole torn through the wall.

“Queen Frigga has requested Rune to speak with Prince Loki this afternoon,” explained Kåre to the standing guard. The guard gave me a sharp look up and down and then stepped aside to let me through.

“Follow the hall until it comes to a set of double-doors. Knock before entering. He may be preoccupied,” stated the guard.

I turned to my shadow, waiting for him to take the lead per usual, but he had turned to take a guarding stance on the opposite side of the corridor entrance.

“Wait. Kåre, you’re coming too, right?” I asked hopefully.

“Guards are not allowed past this point unless given express permission by the prince,” answered the other guard behind my shoulder.

_Well, shit... One rule down. No rooms. Be quick._

“No rooms. Be quick,” I muttered to myself, Kåre giving me a strange look. I turned to him in hopes of securing his help in some way. 

“I’ll be right back. Okay? No more than ten minutes tops. Okay?” I needed his acknowledgement, to understand that he should come looking for me if time got too long. 

“No more than ten minutes,” he parroted back at me.

_Okay. Good. Good._

I turned to the gaping maw and marched myself into it. The sudden change in the sounds of my footsteps revealed why the corridor was so strange in appearance; its floors, walls, and ceilings were made of dark, polished wood. Besides the burning torches set every so often along the walls, reflecting off the glossy surfaces, no other decoration was visible. 

Walking to the end of the corridor, it took a sudden turn to the right, revealing a brighter, shorter corridor. A wall of arched, stained-glass windows ran along the left-hand side, bringing warmth to the otherwise overwhelming darkness. At the end of the lighted corridor, I could see the set of doors, making my way to them at a slower pace due to my admiration of the painted sunlight that streaked across the floor. Leaving behind the light and stepping back into shadow as I neared the doors, I took a couple breaths.

_No rooms. Be quick. No rooms. Be--_

A scream rent through the corridor, stopping me mid-step. The chilling sound had come from the other side of the doors I stood only a few steps from. Closing the gap quickly, I pressed my ear to the door, looking behind me more than once, hoping one of the guards had heard as well. 

No one came running.

 _Do I go in? What if someone’s hurt?_

As I debated on what to do, another scream filled the silent corridor, making me jump in place. Without more thought, I wrenched the door open, taking a step inside and looking around frantically for the source of the chilling sounds.

Bent across a heavy dining table was a dark-haired, pale woman, completely nude. Her hands gripping the sides of the surface, she blinked away some tears as she looked over to me. She raised her head from the table and gave a side glance over her shoulder. I followed her gaze and finally noted that someone else was in the room, only noticing when he irritatedly pushed aside a decorative room divider with an Asgardian landscape adorning it, looking for the intruder.

He was almost unrecognizable at first glance. Though he wore his usual dark leather pants, his equally dark tunic was untucked and open to reveal his chest, the sleeves rolled haphazardly up to his elbows. His normally slicked hair tumultuously fell about his face, wayward strands unable to mask the widening of his eyes in surprise once recognition set in.

“Come to join in?” he grinned, slapping the side of his thigh with a leather strap that I had only then noticed.


	7. Ch. 7 - Siren Song

My face erupted in what felt like flames, my body feeling like it was radiating heat beneath my frock. Doing an about-face, I walked as quickly as I could back through the door, closing it behind me as I went.

 _What the hell was that?_ I thought as I made my speedy exit back past the row of colorful panes, all ideas of fulfilling the queen’s request completely pushed from my mind. As I neared the end before the abrupt turn that would lead me back to Kåre, I was halted by a figure emerging slowly from around the corner.

“Always running off,” came Loki’s drawling voice from the darkness. 

I took a step back into the light spilling from the nearest window, the illumination making it even more difficult to see him; however, the light felt comforting. Safer.

“Let me by,” I tried to say with confidence, something that he found amusing, evident from the wide smile he gave me.

“Why would I do that,” he asked, taking a step forward, “when this is much more fun?”

I stepped back again before realizing that he was herding me back down the corridor and back to his rooms. 

_No rooms!_ screamed my brain, thankfully, making me plant my feet in place. _It’s just an illusion, Rune. It’s not really him._

I raised my chin and gave him a direct look, balling my fists at my side in defiance. I wasn’t going to let him budge me any further. He took another step, his eyebrow arching when he saw I didn’t respond. 

“Growing a backbone, hm?”

“You’re not real,” I stated matter-of-factly. “You--You’re just an illusion.”

He took another few steps forward, putting himself just out of arm’s reach.

“Shall we test your theory?” he asked, but it wasn’t the Loki I was speaking with who had spoken. A second Loki stepped out from behind the first, identical in appearance, including the disheveled clothes and messy hair.

_Great. Now there’s two of them._

I looked past them towards my escape route, wondering if Kåre would be able to hear me if I yelled loudly enough.

 _You could just run for it,_ I thought. _If they’re not real, what’s stopping you?_

But just because they were made from seidr didn’t tell me much about their ability to interact with solid objects. If I ran, would I merely pass through them, like smoke? Or would I be throwing myself into the hands of two Lokis? The possibility of the latter being true kept me from bolting between them.

There was no going forward. And I was set on not going back.

“I didn’t come here to play games,” I said with as much authority as I could muster.

“And why did you come here?”

The voice of yet another Loki coming from behind me had me jumping and spinning around. I had my back to the wall between two windows now, swiveling my eyes to try and keep each Loki in sight. The feeling of being cornered had my mind recalling some of my most recent dreams, my cheeks growing warm at the thoughts.

“Your mother, the queen, sent me,” I hurriedly explained. “She requested I make you a dessert, so I’m here to ask your preferences on taste.”

“How kind of her,” said the first Loki, giving me a look up and down, his pink tongue peeking out to wet his lips. The gesture made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

“S-So… What do you prefer?” I stammered, my hands nervously pulling at my frock.

“Perhaps something with a _bite_ ,” chimed in the second Loki, flashing his teeth, while the one to my right raked his eyes over me again.

“Perhaps something creamy and soft,” he offered.

“And yet, what I would most crave,” said the Loki to my left, “are better manners. Or have you forgotten our little conversation so soon?”

“No!” I nearly yelled, my eyes widening with fear, quickly adding with a more reasonable tone, “your grace.”

The second Loki moved closer, forcing me to press back against the wall. He gave a grin at my evident lack of conviction in my previous theory. I began to take smaller breaths, the wall of Lokis caging me in.

“Still bursting into rooms, uninvited,” he reminded me, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “If you wished to join, you need only have asked.”

I ignored the suggestive teasing, glaring at the Loki directly before me.

“I didn’t mean… I heard a…,” I faltered. “I thought someone was in trouble, your grace.”

“Oh, she is most _certainly_ in trouble,” said the first Loki, a bit of that internal glow flaring behind his eyes. I had the strong impression that he wasn’t talking about the woman back in his rooms.

“She could benefit from a good whipping,” added the second Loki. 

From what seemed like nowhere, the leather strap he had held earlier slid out from his hand that was hanging at his side. My eyes couldn’t stop watching its gentle sway as it lightly tapped against his leg.

A soft touch unexpectedly ran down the length of my left arm. I yelped and moved in the opposite direction, falling through the Loki to my right, who melted away along with the second one. The remaining Loki gave a chuckle at my reaction, the leather strap he had drawn down my arm now tapping against his thigh once again.

_Jerk! Sadistic… Arrogant…_

Livid, I turned on my heel and began marching away, adamantly finished with the entire situation. Just as I got to the turn in the corridor, I heard the doors behind me open and a timid voice ask, “Your grace, should I take my leave?”

I stopped to look back, seeing the woman peeking out from behind one of the doors, one of her arms wrapped across her chest for modesty. She and I looked at one another, and with no hesitation, she smiled. It didn’t look to be nervous or forced, which would have made sense to me.

Confused, I glanced at Loki, who hadn’t turned to look at the woman. Instead, he was observing my reaction with amusement. Keeping his eyes on me, he spoke loud enough for both of us to hear at either ends of the corridor. 

“We are far from finished.” 

He then turned and began making his way back to his rooms. I turned away as well, walking down the remainder of the dark tunnel as speedily as I could, only slowing once I had exited into the now blindingly bright stone corridor.

~ ~ ~ 

“Has your fatigue abated?” I heard Eir ask as I absentmindedly walked back into Healers Hall. The healer’s suggestion that I take the day to rest had been forgotten.

“Mmm,” I responded, giving a vague nod of my head. Eir’s smile was genuine, making me return one in kind. However, my mind was preoccupied with my recent baffling encounter with Loki.

 _He’s more sadistic than you thought. That woman...wanted to be there. Like that?_

The thought of her willingly putting herself into that situation was baffling to me. Then, the darker voice in my head had to voice an opinion.

_There’s a fine line between pleasure and pain. Between fear and anticipation. Had it been at his hands, wouldn’t you want a taste?_

I clenched my own hands into fists, willing the voice to just shut up. But then swimming to the forefront of my mind came the image of Loki’s hands, strong and adept, grasping the soft leather strap… I could feel the blush run from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.

Not wanting to be left alone to stew things over, I looked around for a distraction.

“Is there anything I can help with?” I asked, swiveling my head, looking for Inger. Working with her was always a pleasant diversion.

“Inger is running errands in the city. She will return by evening meal,” Eir explained, understanding my look. “There is little work for you, unfortunately. You may find some in the kitchens.”

“Great!” I said excitedly, turning to leave as soon as possible. I had to eventually go to the kitchens anyway to take care of the queen’s request.

“However,” called Eir, making me stop, “as we both have the available time, another treatment is in order. Would you have a seat?” 

She gestured towards the stools set around the shared desk. My ambition for distraction somewhat deflated, nonetheless, I moved reluctantly to take a seat. The healer planted herself on the opposite side.

“No special brain contraption today?” I asked, not sure what to call the tool she had used last time.

“Not today, no,” she responded with a smile as she settled herself, pulling from one of the desk drawers a leather-bound journal. She flipped several pages into it before settling on a blank one. Noticing my curious looks, she handed the journal to me.

“It is my records of your treatments and notes about your condition.”

I flipped through the beginning pages, noting Eir’s observations about my memory loss, my dreams that I informed her of, and even a drawing of what I assumed was one of the projections from the previous treatment. It was a rough sketch of a brain with particular portions shaded. My curiosity satisfied, I handed the healer’s annotations back to her.

“Today, we are going to focus on your dreams,” she began, and I suddenly felt my stomach cramp into a tight ball. “Have you given them any more thought?”

I shook my head. With everything else that had happened lately, I really hadn’t thought about them. It also didn’t help that I was avoiding thinking about a certain someone who had made regular appearances in my nightly imaginings.

“Now is as good a time as any, then,” she replied, picking up a pen to begin her notes. “What can you recall about your most recent dreams?”

Avoiding what I could, I relayed my dreams of the tree to start. It had cropped up in odd moments, seemingly out of place with whatever else was going on in the dream, but it was always the same tree. I had difficulty explaining how I knew it was the same tree to the healer, her curiosity peaked, but after guiding me to focus on small elements of the tree, one at a time, I was able to picture it more clearly: a dark wood, exposed roots spilling in and out of the soil around it, various knots all along its trunk, and its branches twisting into a heavy canopy of thick, hearty leaves. 

“And does this tree hold meaning for you?” she asked.

“No,” I said plainly, “but, it’s odd… It felt old.”

“You touched the tree in your dream?”

I shook my head, explaining, “It was more of a feeling. It was as if...I could sense how ancient the tree was. I don’t know how I knew it. I could just _feel_ it.”

“Hmm,” commented Eir, making a note. 

The healer directed the conversation into a discussion of my emotions in regards to my dreams, whether I felt frightened or excited, and the like. As I mentioned the odd sensation of traveling quickly in my dreams and the sickening feeling it created, I could feel my stomach flip-flopping at the recollection.

The session ended with a breathing exercise, Eir’s dulcet tones guiding me along. Having me close my eyes, I focused on slowly inhaling and exhaling each breath in a controlled manner, the healer’s directive words setting the pace. I hadn’t noticed when she stopped speaking until her hand jostled my shoulder, breaking my rhythmic breaths.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Great, actually,” I said, giving her a smile. My nerves felt more settled than they had been in a while, and I felt that same enthusiasm to be busy.

I followed her glance to the high windows in the hall, making note of the deepening colors as the sun neared its setting. 

“You better hurry along to the kitchens. No doubt they will already be preparing the evening meal,” she directed, putting her notebook back in its drawer.

I jumped up from my seat, ready to get my hands dirty, nearly tripping over my own feet on my way to the door.

“Do not work yourself too passionately, Rune!” the healer called after me as I sped away. 

Kåre had to run to catch up to me as I hurried through the corridors, unwilling to stop or slow for him the moment I left the hall. The hustle and bustle of the kitchens welcomed me as preparations for the evening meal were in full swing. Without prompting, I threw myself into the chaos, assisting with preparations or cleaning as needed.

“What’s in this?” I asked at one point as I stood over a bubbling pot filled with a thick, reddish stew. Hearing me, Andhrímnir wandered over to look inside.

“Tha’s a pepper stew,” he informed me, ladling out a spoonful for me to try. 

It was rich in flavors of meat and vegetables, but whatever made the distinctly red coloring sparked along my tongue. At my request, the cook took me over to the seasoning stores, pulling down a wooden box filled with a dried, ground red pepper. I timidly pinched a few granules to taste, the spice warming my tongue immediately. The whisper of an idea began to form in my mind.

_He said he wanted something with a bite, so let’s give him a bite._

Once the meal preparations were finished and large tureens and serving platters were prepared, I set about gathering supplies and ingredients, not paying much attention to what my hands snatched up as I moved about, similar to the whimsicality of my first dessert creation. My hands had a mind of their own. 

Andhrímnir kept coming by, stopping to see what I was using or question my recipe, particularly when he noticed the pepper box from earlier.

“‘Oo puts pepper inna dessert?” he asked me, pulling a face of disgust at the idea. It made me laugh and shrug, but the idea of Loki burning his incessantly aggravating tongue was too much of a temptation.

_Sure you don’t want that tongue aggravating you in other ways?_

“Damn it,” I muttered as the errant thought had caused me to drop the whisk I had been using.

A wave of overbearing heat hit me as I stood over a small pot, continuing my stirring of the contents until it thickened. Left alone to make my dessert, the majority of the kitchen staff having left to serve, my mind took full advantage: the image of the nude woman on the table, Loki’s disheveled appearance, the few patches of his pale skin, his tongue darting out to lick his lips…

I could feel a bead of sweat slide from my hairline down the nape of my neck, tickling a shiver from me. 

The discomfort in my body and mind stayed with me as I completed the dessert, seemingly incapable of thinking about anything else. By the time I finished, I felt ready to jump out of my skin. Lingeringly, I placed my creation on the top shelf in the ice-chilled pantry, attempting to cool myself in the process. The dessert--a cardamom and ginger lemon curd in a red pepper tart shell--needed to cool. 

After cleaning up my work space, I made my way back to the hall for the evening meal, my shadow in silent tow despite the numerous glances he gave me as we made our usual trek. When I entered the hall, Kåre’s reason for watching me became evident as both healers gave an exclamation at my appearance.

“You look as if you have been caught in a rain shower,” Inger exclaimed, pointing at my now noticeably damp clothing. I could still feel small droplets of sweat escaping from beneath my hair to race down my neck as I stood there.

“Rune!” barked the head healer, her hands now poised on her hips.

 _Uh oh_.

“It’s nothing. I feel fine,” I said, waving a hand dismissively.

Eir walked around to my usual seat at the desk, yanked the chair out, and pointed at it, irritation evident in every sharp movement. Without a word, I quickly rushed over to sit. Instead of taking her own seat, however, the healer grabbed my wrist.

“Your heartbeat is racing,” she observed, frowning down at me. “What in the nine realms have you been doing?”

“Cooking! That’s all,” I honestly admitted. “It was...just...especially warm in the kitchens.”

The healer gave me another frown and took her seat. We ate quietly, Eir’s ire overwhelming the meal as I squirmed in my seat, ashamed for worrying the woman.

As the solemn supper ended, I finally turned to Eir, intent on making things good between us. Being on Eir’s naughty list was not a fun place to be; Inger could attest to it.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get myself worked up,” I said quietly. “But I really feel--”

Whatever I felt was immediately superseded by the vision of Eir tilting sideways, or rather, I was the one tilting. Vertigo hit me so suddenly and completely that all I could do was obey gravity, landing heavily on the stone floor, my shoulder aching from taking the brunt of the fall.

“Rune!” I could hear their concern and their shuffling feet around me, but I didn’t dare open my eyes. The world was not right.

“I think…,” I said carefully, taking in deep breaths through my nose to stave off the nausea the vertigo had conjured with it, “...I should…lie down.”

I felt the two women slowly draw me up to a sitting position and, taking positions underneath each of my arms, aided me over to one of the beds. Once I was able to return to a horizontal state, the swirling sensation seemed to ebb, and I could breathe more easily. I felt one of the healers feel at my wrist and the other place a cool, damp towel on my forehead.

“Her heartbeat is healthy,” Eir noted. “Go retrieve _Brísingame_ _n_.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“The special brain contraption,” she replied, making me chuckle a bit.

The cool towel was soon moved away and the cold chill of the metal band replaced it. I heard Eir moving her hands above me, tempting me to open my eyes to see what she was doing. A floating model of my brain illuminated the air above my face, flashes of what looked like electricity firing here and there. It was beautiful. Eir had her fingers spinning and dissecting the image as she analyzed it. My eyes met hers, and she smiled gently before instructing Inger to gently blindfold me with the damp towel.

“Always so curious,” I heard the older woman mutter under her breath.

Eir finished her inspection soon enough, removing the band and blindfold, allowing me sight again. Before sitting next to me on the bed, she handed _Brísingame_ _n_ to Inger, who went to put the item back in its storage place.

“Did it tell you anything?” I asked, hopeful she had an answer.

She shook her head, a slight look of confusion on her face.

“You appear to be perfectly healthy,” was her response, but she didn’t sound pleased at my soundness. “Can you sit up, now? How do you feel?”

I tried pushing myself up to a sitting position, able to do so without any further dizziness. However, the exhaustion was returning.

Eir decided that rest would be the best course of action, and with Kåre’s requested assistance, I was helped to my feet. Before I made it out of the hall, however, I suddenly remembered the dessert; describing where it was stored in the ice pantry, I asked Eir to send someone to deliver it to Loki’s rooms. 

_At least, I won’t have to see him again tonight,_ I thought with relief. 

Shooing me out of the hall with her hands, Eir assured me it would be done.

~ ~ ~

“What’s it like to fly?” I asked the black bird that was eyeing me from a few feet away. His eyes gave a blink as he hopped curiously towards me.

“I bet it’s exhilarating,” I said with a sigh, glancing up at the grey, gloomy sky above. 

The erratic winds of the storm battered at me, whipping my hair about my face, doing its best to ruffle me. Feathers on the bird were jostled about as well, some being blown at odd angles. Perhaps seeking some shelter from the buffeting winds, the bird hopped near enough that I could have touched its glossy feathers, but I refrained.

We both sat beneath the old tree, enjoying the chaos of the building storm around us. The soil already smelled of dampness, the sound of rattling leaves and gusting winds filling my ears.

“I suppose flying in a storm like this would be difficult, though,” I continued with my one-sided conversation.

“All the best things are,” responded the bird in a familiar voice that froze me in place. “Difficult, that is.”

Loki was standing in place of the bird, his usual dark leathers now decorated with black feathers, the same feathers woven throughout his inky hair. He grinned down at me.

“Nowhere to run, now,” he stated simply.

I tried. Of course, I tried. But my hands and legs wouldn’t budge. I looked down to see the roots of the great tree snaked around my limbs, binding me to the earth. Suddenly, he straddled my legs and crouched in front of me, hovering too closely for comfort. Now at eye level, I could see his once ice-blue eyes had become solid black and terrifying as they observed me.

“Is this not better?” he calmly asked, reaching out to skim my cheek with the backs of his fingers. I quickly stilled at his touch. “No need to fight.”

Odd groans and creaks began to sound all around me, and I could feel myself sliding backwards. Desperately trying to look behind me, I could see the trunk of the tree tearing itself open, the binding roots dragging me slowly into it.

“Help me!” I pleaded, as I struggled against my restraints. Loki only grinned. “ _Please!_ ”

The rent wood began to close around me, slowly imprisoning me wholly inside of the tree. My last sight was that of Loki viciously laughing before silence and darkness. A few heavy knocks reverberated around my suffocating tomb.

All I could do was scream.


	8. Ch. 8 - Coerced Complements

I awoke to darkness and the sounds of my own frightened breathing. Swiftly, I sat up in bed, staring into the pitch black of my room, trying to let my heart calm its pace. Despite being fully awake, the feelings of the nightmare lingered, causing me to keep looking around into the darkness, half expecting the sinister bird-Loki to emerge from the hidden corners. It had felt so real.

 _It was a dream. Just a dream_.

Several loud hammering thumps resounded on my door, a frightened yelp escaping from me. I waited silently, hoping that whoever--or whatever--it was would go away, but the hammering knocks rang out again. This time, I stumbled out of my bed and felt my way over to the door, cracking it open just enough to peek out.

It was a guard, the guard from the entrance to Loki’s rooms. He looked as unwelcoming as before, frowning at me through the small opening.

“You have been summoned by Prince Loki,” was all he said.

I opened the door a bit more, letting the light from the corridor’s torches spill into the room. Poking my head out, I looked in both directions, no one else in sight except for my nightly shadow who took over for Kåre each evening. The young guard was staring back and forth between me and my visitor, clearly curious about the interruption to his usually uneventful duties.

“ _Now?_ ” I harshly whispered. “What time is it?”

“There is still another hour before sunrise,” helpfully answered my temporary shadow. I looked back to Loki’s guard, accusingly.

“Couldn’t he have waited for a decent time?”

“His grace is often up at all hours,” was the guard’s response.

“Fine,” I said grumpily. “Give me a minute.”

I closed the door and cautiously felt my way over to my bedside table, lighting the lamp. After debating on whether to wear my work frock or the lighter linen with the apron dress, I settled on the latter in hopes that it would keep me cool, my newfound skill of overheating influencing my choice.

 _What does he want, anyway?_ I thought irritably as I braided and pinned my hair above the nape of my neck. Then, the memory of the previous evening served as a reminder; _he’s mad about the dessert._

Though at the time, the joke had seemed like a great idea; now as I slightly shivered in the early morning darkness, the remnants of my nightmare still haunting the room, I was beginning to have regrets.

The lengthy walk back to Loki’s rooms through the sleeping palace was eerie. Distantly spaced torches provided only small pools of illumination up and down the darkened corridors while the only sounds were that of my two escorts’ clanking armored steps, echoing off of the stone walls and ceilings.

Thankfully, the fatigue and dizziness of the night before had dissipated in my dreams, only to be replaced with a nervous tightening in the pit of my stomach. I fiddled with my apron, smoothing my hands over it as we walked along, pulling at loose threads to distract myself from my building anxiety. When we came to a sudden halt, both guards taking position on either side of the ominous dark, wooden corridor, I stood rooted to the spot, fear truly gripping me.

 _No Kåre. No more rules to keep you safe. Why’d he have to do this at night?_ I thought worriedly.

I must have stood there for too long, Loki’s guard giving me a side glance before reminding me, “The prince is waiting.”

“Right,” I said under my breath. “Right.”

 _Time to face the music_.

I closed my eyes to give myself some courage and stepped into the blackened hall, opening them once I heard my own footsteps gently tapping along the wooden floor. 

The corridor was even darker than it had been the previous day, not a single lit torch along the walls. At one point, I reached out a hand to my side, coming into contact with the cool, polished wall of wood, using it as a guide to make my way safely. 

Rounding the turn into the corridor with the painted windows, I was hopeful for some reprieve from the suffocating night. Soft light from the half autumn moon gently lit the corridor, but it was hardly better than the pitch black; what little greyish light there was only magnified the darkened areas between and beyond the windows.

Slowly making my way through the patches of moonlight, I stopped in front of his closed doors. Taking a few deep breaths, I knocked lightly, hoping he wouldn’t hear it and I could escape back to my room.

“Enter.”

_Damn._

Taking one more deep breath, I opened the door and stepped inside.

The corridor’s dark tones carried over into Loki’s rooms, the polished wood covering every surface. However, it appeared some well-placed rugs had been added for comfort and to lighten the room. Directly across from where I stood was a comfy sitting area, adorned with a lounge and a couple plush sitting chairs before a fireplace. To its right, I could see the room divider Loki had previously emerged from, hiding the large, heavy table behind it in shadow, the only illumination coming from the low-burning fire.

“Do you always linger in doorways?”

Loki stepped out from the shadowy wall next to the fireplace, appearing like a demon looking to make a deal with a poor soul. Fighting every instinct in my body, I turned to close myself into my own coffin, the creature of my nightmares inside with me. Shakily, I turned back to face him.

“Sit.”

Walking forward reluctantly, I entered the sitting area, quietly observed by him. The lounge had reminded me too much of the one from the drawing room, so I took the first chair opposite it. 

The chair was comfortable enough, upholstered in what felt like a well-treated animal hide under my fingers, but I sat rigid, alert to every movement he made as he took the second chair nearer the fire. His position now cast his face in darkness as he became backlit by the crackling blaze. I, on the other hand, had unwittingly placed myself in the literal spotlight. I adjusted a bit in my seat, waiting for him to say something. He remained silent, however.

“Did you want to speak to me about something?” I finally offered, tired of the nervous silence.

“Playing dumb does not suit you,” he said in a low tone. I glanced at his darkened face, but his eyes were unreadable.

“Was...was there something wrong with the dessert?” I asked as innocently as I could. I couldn’t even convince myself.

He didn’t respond but continued to sit and observe me, his face hidden in the shadows, even more menacing somehow.

“Was it too spicy?” I offered, wanting the awkward conversation to come to a speedy end so I could leave. Though Loki’s tongue often set me on edge, his quietness seemed even more disconcerting.

“Your _seasoning_ ,” he finally spoke, “was unique. Tell me; who assisted you with its creation?”

I tried looking at his face again, this time confused. _What does he mean who helped me?_

“The head cook answered my questions about some spices, but no one helped me otherwise,” I tried explaining, unsure why it mattered if someone helped me or not. _Does he think I’m not capable of making the dessert on my own?_

He let out a heavy sigh.

“That is not the _assistance_ I am referring to,” he elaborated, an edge of irritation growing in his voice.

“I’m not sure what…” I trailed off, unsure of what to say.

“Who lent their seidr to your dish, idiot girl?” he snapped.

My mind was completely blank as I stared back at his shadowed face. I had no idea how to even approach the question. 

_He thinks I used seidr in making the dessert? How?_ I thought distractedly before coming back to the insult. _And who is he calling an idiot?_

I sat myself taller, lifting my chin and looking directly where his eyes would be if I could see them, refusing to cower to his bullying.

“I don’t know what you mean, your grace,” I answered in a clipped tone.

He leaned forward towards me, his hands now gripping the arms of his chair.

“Do not lie to the god of lies,” he hissed.

“I’m not ly--”

He sprang from his chair, and in two inhumanly quick steps, he was leaning over me, his hands now grasping the sides of my chair, caging me in. Instinctually, I scooted back. 

His proximity now allowed me to see his face for the first time since I had entered the room. There was no teasing smile, only a grim line of a mouth, and his eyes were something entirely surprising. They appeared red and glassy but also wide and crazed. Only then did I notice how unkempt his clothing and hair were.

“You expect me to believe that some _mortal girl_ ,” he spit the words at me like they were dirt in his mouth, “can practice seidr in such a manner?”

“I don’t understand,” I said, shaking my head back and forth, causing him to narrow his eyes.

“Do you not?” he asked, leaning further forward, now inches from my face. “Are you claiming happenstance? If no one else aided in making the thing, then that only leaves...you...”

For a moment, something seemed to change. He moved ever so slightly back from his intimidating closeness, and I watched as he searched my face, his eyes slightly widening as he came to some sort of realization. 

“Witch,” he whispered.

But it sounded more like a statement of fact, not an insult. I watched as his look went from dawning realization to something else, his lids growing heavy as he began to fully look at me. The lingering nature of his gaze had alarm bells sounding in my head. 

Before I could act, however, his knee was rudely shoved between my legs, offering him a better advantage to slowly maneuver himself over me, his hands finding purchase on the back of the chair on either side of my head.

“Little temptress,” he breathed over me as his gaze roved aimlessly. “Were you sent here to torment me, witch?”

I would have laughed had the words fallen from his mouth from across the room. But the little control he had over himself made the seriousness evident. I could hear his hands tightening over the back of the chair and listened as small, shallow breaths fell from his slightly opened mouth.

“I-I don’t… I can’t--I _wouldn’t_ …,” I stuttered, not sure what to say to get him to believe me.

What I said didn’t matter, though, as he watched my lips with a hungry look. When he leaned closer, his intent obvious, I reacted in defense, placing my hands against his chest and pushing.

Swift enough to garner a surprised exclamation from me, his fingers wrapped around both of my wrists, ripping my hands from his body and pinning them against the back of the chair on either side of my head. A low growl accompanied the movement, and I froze in terror.

Then, a soft knocking came from outside the entrance to his rooms, immediately followed by a servant, a young man, entering with a covered tray, Loki’s morning meal. I thought Loki would have retreated, but he kept his menacing hold on me as though there was no interruption.

I frantically looked over at the young man as he delivered the tray to the dining table before walking past us a second time to leave. He didn’t raise his eyes to us even once, obviously well-trained to not notice such things. I watched in desperation as he left, closing the door quietly behind him.

 _No one would come running, even if they heard you scream_.

I stared back up at Loki in shock, uncontrollable tremors beginning to roll through me. He sneered down at me. Then, surprisingly, he pushed himself back to a standing position. He stood there for what felt like an agonizingly lengthy amount of time, looking down at me, and because he wouldn’t look away, I couldn’t move.

_One… Two… Breathe… Four… In… Out…_

Then, as if nothing had happened, he turned away. I finally lowered my now shaking hands into my lap.

I sat up, warily watching him walk over to the divider to close it, allowing the firelight and now a pinkish daylight coming through the windows to reach the dining area.

Loki walked over to the head dining chair and pulled it out, flopping down into it, casually raising the lid off of his morning meal. Popping a grape in his mouth, he glanced back at me and gestured with his finger, as though he were calling a pet over. 

“Come here. Sit. Eat.”

I glanced over my shoulder to the door the servant had left through, but when I looked back at Loki, he was watching with a raised eyebrow.

“I would not,” he warned, popping another piece of food into his mouth.

I stood and slowly made my way over to the dining table, pulling out a chair near him. He pushed the platter of fruit, bread, and baked fish towards me, indicating for me to help myself. I took a piece of bread and distractedly picked at it.

Loki continued to eat, all the while watching me. At one point, he leaned forward, holding a strawberry out to me, but when I reached out to take it rather than risk his mercurial moods by refusing, he pulled it away slightly. He shook his head slowly. Expectantly, he offered the berry to me again.

“No, thank you,” I said, petulantly turning my head away, refusing to play his game.

Leaning in closer, he placed his other hand on my knee, earning my undivided attention. He offered the berry again, this time placing it before my lips. 

“Bite,” his tone harsh.

Glaring at him, I opened my mouth and snapped down on the berry in as aggressive a manner as I could. He only grinned and leaned back in his chair, indulging in the rest of the berry, a look of self-satisfaction plastered across his smug face.

“So where does a mortal girl learn to use seidr?” he nonchalantly asked as though we were picking up a casual conversation. 

“I told you already,” I replied, “I don’t know what you--”

“For the moment, I will indulge in your claim of ignorance in the matter,” he cut me off. “However, the fact remains that you do have seidr.”

He gathered his fingers beneath his chin, considering me. He looked even more the villain, making it easier for my irritation to grow.

“How do you know it was my seidr?” I asked awkwardly, not quite sure what I was trying to say. “I mean, someone else could have...poisoned it...with their own seidr.”

 _Why am I trying to defend myself?_ I thought irritably. _I don’t know magic!_

Loki reached over to take another strawberry. Slowly, his widening smile dimpled his cheeks. He stared at my lips for a moment.

“Taste,” he answered simply, taking a bite from the fruit.

I could feel my cheeks warming. I stared down at my mangled piece of bread, unable to look at him. 

_Get ahold of yourself, Rune! He just implied that he knows the seidr belongs to you. He’s lying. He has to be. He’s playing some sick game, again._

With my irritation building, I stood up suddenly, glaring down at him. 

“I don’t know magic! How many times do I have to tell you!” I said, raising my voice to keep him from cutting me off again.

Allowing for no misunderstanding, he slowly instructed me, “Sit back down, girl.” 

It was a warning-- _Sit back down, or I will make you_. His blue eyes were like ice, tempering my flare-up. I slowly sat back down, continuing to glare at him.

He casually got out of his chair and walked a few feet to my right to what looked like a liquor cabinet. From it, he withdrew the remainder of the spicy lemon tart, placing it on the table before me. A solid few bites were missing from it.

He took his seat again, drawing his chair closer to mine so that we sat with our knees nearly touching. The closeness had me pushing back as deep into my own chair as possible.

Producing a fork from nowhere, Loki gathered a decent bite and held it out to me.

“You had me up all night,” he informed me, waggling the bite in the air a bit. “I feel it only fair that you have a taste of your own medicine.”

I looked warily at the innocuous bite, unsure if I could refuse eating my own creation in any way that Loki would agree to. A quick glance at his intense stare quashed any hope of that. I opened my mouth and leaned forward, grudgingly allowing him to feed me. 

The bite was a surprise to the tongue. The gently spiced lemon curd was tangy and creamy, the peppery crust building a low heat at the back of the tongue, culminating in a bitter-sweet burn. I had been right about the spice. It was warm but pleasantly surprising. I smiled for a moment, enjoying my own success. I noticed Loki smiling back at me, his eyes beginning to dance with amusement.

“Now, tell me, girl,” he said with a grin, “what exactly was running through your naughty mind when you created this?”

In an almost immediate response to his question, I felt that internal heat starting to rise in me, spreading out from my center, creeping tendrils through my chest and between my legs. 

“I…what?” I asked distractedly, doing my best not to squirm at the warm pooling sensation that was building in my lower half.

“At first, I considered you were perhaps only embarrassed at the sight of the girl spread over my table,” he explained to me, watching me closely, his eyes following my hands as they smoothed over my apron dress or reached up to adjust my collar or tuck a non-existent strand of hair behind my ear. “But it was my offer for you to join...that colored your cheeks.”

I felt my body betray me again, blushing furiously. 

“There it is,” he cooed, seemingly pleased. “Were you thinking of me, my pet? Of what I could do to you if you were draped over my table?”

It felt as if an audible click emanated through my mind. Everything came together all of a sudden. I had been thinking of Loki, unable to think of anything else, when I had made the tart. And those feelings-- _my arousal_ \--had gone into the dessert somehow. I knew it was true as the familiarity of it was currently burning through my body from the single bite.

_And he knows it, too. He knows what you’re feeling because he ate…_

I rose without preempt, rushing past Loki, determined to leave the room, his presence, my utter humiliation.

My hand grasped the door handle and pulled, but it wouldn’t move. His hand, splayed wide in front of me, kept the door decidedly shut and me decidedly there. Again, I hadn’t heard him move from his seat, but he was now precariously close, leaning over me, placing his weight on his extended arm. 

“Oh, you mustn’t go. Not yet,” he quietly crooned, nuzzling his nose into my hair just behind my left ear. “How is it you smell of the forest on a warm summer’s day?” 

My breathing had become shallow. 

“I-I should leave,” I stammered. 

“Oh? Would you rather not stay and play with me?” 

From my left, his face came into my peripheral view, close enough that I could feel his breath on my neck, warm and dangerously tempting. One finger leisurely ran down from my jaw to the top of my shoulder, the initial touch causing me to slightly jump and squeak in surprise. 

A low hum of satisfaction came from the back of his throat, resulting in goosebumps cascading across my skin in a wave. 

_Get out_ , was all my brain had to say. Well, at least the reasonable part, the part that knew this couldn’t lead anywhere good. The other part, the part that was controlling my bodily responses...that part needed to be tied up and gagged. 

_Ooh, wouldn’t that be fun?_ it cheered, that voice getting louder by the minute. 

“Stop,” I said, moving out from under him and to the left. 

Blindly, I walked a few steps back along the runner that ran alongside the length of the dining table to a second set of doors. The room was becoming detailed in the early morning sunlight, and I noted a third set of doors just to my left. Despite my options, I was fairly certain the only doors that would allow my escape were the ones Loki’s intimidating self was currently blocking.

“Let me leave,” I said.

“No,” he replied simply, amusement in his eyes again.

Straightening from his leaning position, he advanced towards me.

“Stop,” I said again, taking equal steps back from him. He stopped and considered me with a smile.

“Why?” he asked. “I understand what you feel. It has been my constant companion this night.”

His disheveled appearance and manic behavior were pulled into sharp focus considering the current licks of flame I was fighting inside of me. _I did this to him._

Taking advantage of my brief distracting thought, he took another few steps forward, this time reaching to grab at my waist. I jumped back, narrowly avoiding his long fingers, only to feel solid wood at my back.

He closed in on me quickly, my deep desire and attempt to become one with the solid object behind me proving unsuccessful as he pressed himself in close. I could feel his breath on my face as I stared blindly at his chest, refusing to meet his eyes. 

“That doesn’t mean that I want you to touch me,” I countered, a bit too breathily for my liking. I needed him to stop. _Please, stop_. 

“Tell me what you feel,” he demanded. I looked up at him only to find him glaring down at me. “Did I not speak clearly, girl?”

He reached out to cup the left side of my face with his hand. It was gentle, and the warmth of it made every muscle tense up, the feeling of being caught by something dangerous pumping through my veins. 

“ _Stop_ ,” I said again but with some force, this time brushing his hand off with a flick of my own. 

A bit shocked, I watched him carefully, expecting more of the same from earlier when I had tried pushing him away. 

His mouth grinned mockingly at me but his eyes evoked no warmth. Like a snake lashing out to land a bite, his hand returned to me, only this time digging his fingers into a fist in my hair gathered at the nape of my neck, sharply pulling my head back. I had nowhere to look but up at him as his face hovered just over mine. 

“Tell me what you feel,” he spoke quietly, hungrily watching my lips. With his other hand, he wrapped it under my chin and began brushing his thumb across my bottom lip. The small friction was distracting, my thoughts scattering like windswept leaves.

“Driving me mad,” he admitted quietly, almost as though he were talking to himself. His hand moved down to softly wrap around my throat. “It is only fair to repay the kindness.”

He gave a small squeeze, earning a small whimper from me. My body was on fire, and every little painful tug at my hair or agonizingly soft touch of his hand was feeding the flames.

 _Stop. You have to stop this,_ I thought frantically. If it didn’t stop, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to refuse anything he asked of me.

“Please,” I whispered, desperately searching his eyes for some sign that he would listen.

He hummed in the back of his throat, asking, “What do you wish for, my pet?”

His hand had moved again, now stroking along my collar bone, sending small electric shocks along my skin. A strong tug from the pit of my stomach had my breath hitching.

“Please,” I tried again. “Please, stop.”

He smiled again, and with relief, I felt his hand release my hair. However, it moved to the back of my neck, holding me in place as he softly tutted at me.

“Now, now,” he said, “We both know that is a lie.”

Then his lips were on mine, soft at first, molding around mine. Somewhere inside me a sharp bolt of longing shot through me, and I closed my eyes, leaning into him. A purr of satisfaction rumbled from somewhere deep in him, and his roving hand slid around my back, pulling me against his hard frame.

 _Rune, stop! What are you doing?!_

Though my body was more than willing, my brain wasn’t having it, shouting every reason why this couldn’t happen. 

_He’s a prince! He’s not meant for you! You’re just a mortal! He’s a god! He’s unpredictable! He’s dangerous! It’s just the tart, the magic. You shouldn’t want this. You can’t want this!_

I felt his mouth open and his tongue playfully taste at my lips, trying to tease them open. Despite every visceral desire I had to open to him, to let him have whatever he wanted, my mouth became stubborn. My rational brain had won the argument, somehow, clamping my mouth shut, my once soft lips forming two thin lines of rejection.

His lips stopped immediately. He looked down at me, his eyes hardening.

“Open your damn mouth,” he growled.

I defiantly glared back, even when his hand returned to my hair, yanking roughly to provoke my mouth to open. When that didn’t work, his other hand returned to my throat, gently beginning to squeeze, as he cruelly asked, “Do you wish to breathe?”

His grip progressively tightened, and in a panic, I opened my mouth before I needed the breath. Instantly, his mouth was on mine, harsh, invasive. 

So I bit down.

Slowly, he took two steps back, finally allowing me space to breathe. He gave me a look of surprise rather than pain, as I had hoped. He drew the back of his hand across his lip and looked down at the small streak of blood. I noticed the taste of copper on my tongue.

_What did you just do?_

“I’m sorry,” I blurted out. “I’m so very sorry. I didn’t mean--” 

“Did you not mean to bite me, pet?” 

He had become very still, nearly statuesque. My heart was beating in my ears. 

“I-I’m sorry,” I said again, my voice catching. 

“That was the first bit of honest feeling you have shown,” he said, grinning. 

His eyes had a fire lit somewhere behind them that caused my cheeks to flush. His grin spread even wider. 

He was excited. 

I was terrified. 

But that was warring with another feeling that I knew was definitely growing stronger, urging me on to something exciting. 

“Tell me what you feel,” he demanded again. 

_Damn it! Can he read minds?_

Impatiently, he started to take a step towards me again, and I threw my hand out in front of me to keep him away.

“Fine!” I blurted out, getting him to stop. I couldn’t think when he was so close. 

“Fine. I want you. There, I’ve said it,” I spat out, taking my chance to step to the right along the wall. 

_Distance. Get distance_ , was repeating in my head as I took a few more steps, putting the width of the dining table between us, still holding my hand out in front of me as though it had any control over the situation. 

“Now, let me leave.”

“Why ever would I do such a thing,” he asked, “now that I have you?”

He made a lunging movement towards me, sending me skittering around the other side of the table, but he hadn’t followed, adjusting his movement to mirror mine. We stood facing one another, the back of a chair gripped solidly in my hands like a shield though the table separated us.

“You are immensely amusing, pet,” he openly laughed, taking the chairs on his side, one at a time, and hurling them away from the table. The crash of each one had my body jolting in response. He leaned forward over the table, his hands splayed wide on the polished surface. 

Leaving behind my clearly pointless shield, I stepped back from the table and continued to make my way past our forgotten meal. He mirrored my progress until we were both near the end of the table when I broke into a run towards the sitting area. 

I turned abruptly when I got to its center, ready to fight him off, but he had remained in the same spot near the table, admiring me from across the room.

“Though the chase is tempting,” he said with a tilt of his head, letting his eyes drop down my body, “watching you flee has its merits.”

 _The bastard’s enjoying this too much_ , I thought bitterly.

“Then enjoy the view!” 

I made a break for the doors, hinging everything on him being caught by surprise, and for a brief moment, I thought I had done it. The door had begun to open as I pulled on it, giving me the briefest view of the now rainbow-lit corridor, before it slammed shut again. 

I was spun around quickly and pressed back against the door I had tried to escape through, Loki’s mouth hot on mine as his hands latched onto my waist, pulling me into his body. An unbidden moan escaped my lips, causing my eyes to snap open and for me to break the kiss. However, one of his hands quickly latched to the back of my neck, pulling me back against his mouth.

I frantically began pushing at his chest, his body as immovable as stone, a low growl coming from his throat as his hand dug bruisingly into my flesh. My pushes turned to slaps and then balled up fists pounding at him, but he was relentless, encouraged by my pathetic fight.

**_Enough!_ **

Something left my body, a heavy surge that shot through my feet into the wood beneath them, that same surge bursting through my arms and out of my hands. 

Simultaneously, a loud crack resounded through the room as Loki stumbled a few steps back from me. 

I looked down at my feet, a fissure running out from between them, its end coming to a stop where Loki stood. I looked up at the god who was taking heavy breaths as he looked down at the newly-made alteration to his floor.

I could only watch his face as it gave away his every mood. The initial shock gave way to a terrifyingly manic laugh that made the hairs on my neck stand on end. His wild eyes landed on my face, and he bared his teeth at me in a fanatic smile. 

The words he spoke, however, were chillingly calm and precise.

“Unless you wish to keep me company, it would be prudent for you to take your leave,” adding after a pause, “with haste.”

 _Move, damn it._

Dazedly, I turned and quietly left his rooms, walking absently back along the wooden corridor, holding my hands out in front of me like they were something I had never seen before. When I returned to cream stone again, I felt a gentle tug at my elbow. It was Queen Frigga. She was saying something to me, but I couldn’t hear her.

Then, similar to my first meeting with her in the garden, the world darkened around the queen’s concerned face, a sensation of falling the last thing I could recall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was scribbling to Brooklyn Duo’s version of “Take Me to Church” on this chapter. It seemed fitting.


	9. Ch. 9 - Let Us Too Yield

I was nothing. 

Floating in nothing. 

Blacker than black, where I was...

Was not…?

Was empty, and I was there. 

Then, from somewhere, from something, from nothing...

Sparks gave existence to my vast nothing.

Hands.

His hands.

Curling fingers around my new self, pooling across my thighs and supple belly, thickly covering my breasts, tracing across my neck. And I burned, the intensity splitting my skin, scorched black, weeping molten. Beneath his icy touch, the sizzle and crack of forces fascinated me.

I had desire.

~ ~ ~ 

The glow coming through the high windows spilled across the opposite wall from my bed. The sun was setting. The intense orange light pouring into Healers Hall had burned its way into my dream. I half expected the light to start oozing down the wall, liquid fire. 

I quickly felt too hot, reaching out to tiredly pull the blankets off of me. I pushed myself to a sitting position.

“Rune?”

From across the room where she was sweeping, Inger dropped her broom and rushed over to my bedside, immediately feeling my pulse and measuring my temperature against the back of her own hand.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, all seriousness. 

I smiled at her.  _ Eir would be proud to see Inger taking charge in her role as a healer.  _

As though she had heard my thoughts, the head healer herself walked through the door carrying a tray of food, Kåre close behind her, balancing a second tray in one hand while still toting his lance in the other.

“Rune is awake,” Inger called over her shoulder, continuing her attentions in checking my well-being.

The trays were quickly left on the desk as both Eir and Kåre rushed over. Eir took her place on my unoccupied side and looked to her apprentice.

“She appears to be in fine health,” the younger healer confirmed as she moved on to checking my ability to follow her finger. She asked again, “How are you feeling, Rune?”

I had to think on that myself. 

_ How do you feel about your newfound magic powers? Or about Loki? About him knowing what you feel towards him? About what happened? What could have happened? _

I looked down at my hands, slowly turning them over as though they were going to look any different from before. But the same freckles on one pinky and at the base of one thumb were still there, the scar on my left palm intact, a small burn on one finger tip still slightly painful from dropping the whisk covered in hot curd.

Then, my movements stopped when I noticed that I was wrong, that there  _ were  _ changes.

From Loki’s handling, purpling blue bruises spotted along each arm near my wrists. I looked up to my left shoulder, noticing a distinct thumb-shaped bruise along the top of my arm. And though I couldn’t see it, beneath my linen dress I felt the same dull ache as the other bruises, this one sitting over my right hip.

“Rune?” asked Eir gently.

I looked up to see the familiar look of concern on her face.  _ Why is it always me that makes her have that face? _ I thought guiltily. I forced a smile in response.

“I feel fine.”

Eir’s face seemed to fall, a grimace taking precedence. However, before I could reassure her again, wanting nothing more in that moment than to make her not worry over me anymore, Kåre spoke up.

“Rune, I must report your status upon your recovery,” he stated as he too looked concernedly at me. He glanced down at my wrists again and then back up to my eyes before continuing, “If you are not well enough, I will delay in making my report.”

Inger nodded enthusiastically, giving the guard a sweet smile. I looked to Eir who gave a small nod as well. It was obvious--their genuine concern for me--and I couldn’t stop the tears that quietly slipped down my face, everything becoming overwhelming.

My sudden emotional upset had Kåre taking a few steps away to offer me space, looking away out of respect. Inger swiftly joined him, linking her arm through his and walking the both of them out of the hall. Only Eir remained next to me, her hands gently cupping one of mine in their comforting hold.

“I’m sorry,” I finally managed to say once I had wrestled control back, swiping at the tears. “I don’t mean to make all of you worry.”

The healer’s kind look soured into a frown.

“You have absolutely nothing to apologize for,” she said sternly, giving a gentle squeeze to my hand. “You are not the one to blame for this.”

Again, she gave my hand a squeeze.

And though her support made that warm bubble of gratitude swell in my chest, the gnawing guilt that it really was my fault was sitting in my gut.

“These,” I said as I held my hands up, gently modeling off my newly-acquired ornaments, “were my fault. No, really, Eir.”

The woman had staunchly huffed and shifted her weight in obvious disagreement.

“I don’t mean to say that I deserved these,” I tried to explain, both to her and myself. “But what drove...him...to this was my fault. I…I somehow...used magic--seidr--in the dessert.”

The entire circumstances were still so confusedly jumbled in my mind, but saying it aloud was helping to make things solid, real.

“When you were brought in this morning by the queen,” Eir explained quietly, “her grace informed us of your seidr abilities.”

“The queen?” I asked, confused. “How did she know? I didn’t even know it myself.”

“She said nothing about how she obtained the knowledge,” she said with a small shake of her head. “Her grace only seemed concerned that you may have been seriously injured. You were...quite a frightening sight to the queen. To us all.”

“Frightening?”

The healer looked down at the hand she held carefully in her own, and I eventually understood what she meant. I must have looked odd, wandering out of Loki’s rooms in the early morning light, hair a mess, bruises beginning to blossom, dazed to the world around me. And of course, the fainting most likely added damning confirmation that I had been traumatized in some way.

“He didn’t...,” I began, trying to explain what I could. “He...didn’t do anything--”

I stopped at the sharp look Eir gave me, a genuine anger flaring in her eyes.

“He let me go,” I tried again. “He could have… But he didn’t. He let me go.”

I didn’t offer up the fact that I had fought my own urges to stay in his rooms, wanting him as much as he had wanted me. I also didn’t bother to add that he only let me go after I somehow summoned a power to repel him. The thought had me looking back down at my hands.

_ What was that? How did I do that? _

“Well, bully for him,” snapped the healer, the sardonic tone in Eir’s voice surprising me a bit. I had never heard her be critical of any of the royal family.

“He was the one who told me I had used seidr,” I went on, trying to focus on the cause of the incident. “He even had me eat the tart, and I could taste it, Eir. I had somehow put a spell--ugh, that sounds so odd…I had put a  _ spell  _ on the dessert. I caused this.”

Again, I lifted my wrists. The woman’s face, however, remained stony, clearly unconvinced. Purposefully ignoring her displeasure, I continued, now determined to find out whatever I could about what exactly it was that I was unwittingly wielding.

“How am I able to use seidr, Eir?” I asked, looking to the healer for answers, who in return gave a slight sigh.

“While you were unconscious, we were able to identify your seidr with the Soul Forge,” she explained, pushing past my inquisitive look at her mention of a  _ soul forge _ , “but that was all it could confirm.”

“Do you think it could be related to my memory loss?” I questioned, adding this newfound mystery to my pre-existing ones.

“Perhaps,” Eir replied. “Seidr is unique to each of those who harness it. However, your circumstance is quite challenging, you being a mortal. There is little known about your race other than what has been recorded of our brief history with your realm.”

“Loki had called me a witch,” I recounted. “Do witches exist on Asgard?”

“Though such a derogatory term is used by some to mock and belittle them,” she explained in a tone of indignation, “ _ witch  _ usually refers to  _ norns  _ and seeresses,  _ vӧlva _ and  _ veleda _ , those who can foretell fate and even change its course.”

_ A witch. Just another insult from him. _ My guilt over drugging him with my seidr-- _ my seidr _ \--lightened a bit as the familiar irritation of him ignited, a small flame licking up my back as I sat a little straighter in my bed.

“Do you think he could be right?” I asked begrudgingly. “Could I be one of these...seers?”

The healer took a moment before answering.

“The only wielders of seidr I am familiar with are not of your race. In fact,” she added as she reached into a pocket of her frock and withdrew a looped leather thong with a small, corked bottle at the end of it, an opalescent liquid within, “the queen and I discussed the possibility that your seidr may be the cause of your fatigue and dizzy spells. Her grace provided this from her private stores if that were the case.”

She handed the small bottle over to me. The diminutive glass felt unnaturally heavy in my hand. I carefully held it up for Eir to take back, afraid of dropping it.

“What does it do?”

“It is a restorative tonic, for seidr more specifically,” the healer explained. “As the queen is a practitioner of seidr, she has use for such a potion.”

I nodded.  _ If the queen uses seidr, maybe she was able to detect it somehow like Loki did. _ I looked at the innocuous bottle in Eir’s hand.

“It won’t hurt me, will it?”

The healer gave me a gentle smile and proceeded to carefully uncork the bottle.

“It was crafted for the sole purpose of restoring depleted seidr in those who wield such power,” she calmly explained, tipping a single drop of the sheening liquid onto one of her forefingers with a practiced hand. She then licked the drop from her finger, giving another smile to reassure me. “It has no effect on those without seidr.”

Knowing that it was of personal use to the queen alleviated some of my anxiety, as well. Holding my hand out, my forefinger extended towards the healer, I waited as she applied a single drop.

_ Time to drink the bottle on the table and go through the door, Alice. Here goes nothing _ , I thought, popping my finger into my mouth.

The taste was inconsequential other than it seemed familiar in some way. It was the sensation that washed through me that was notable, crawling down my throat to slowly fill my chest and stomach, a humming that spread to the tips of my fingers and toes. Once it reached its ends, the oddly pleasant vibrations ceased just as abruptly as they had begun.

I gave a slight, involuntary shiver in response.

“Would you care to test your strength now?” Eir asked, holding her hand out to assist me out of the bed.

I took her hand and slowly got to my feet. I felt perfectly fine. There was no sluggishness in my limbs nor the slightest hint of vertigo. I smiled at Eir, who handed the bottle back to me, noticeably having an appropriate weight to it now.

“You are to keep that with you at all times,” instructed the now pleased healer. “It is the queen’s express command.”

I slipped the leather thong over my head, the tonic finding a home cradled between my breasts.

From across the room, the familiar sound of the hall door opening pulled our attention to Inger, peeking into the room. At the sight of my upright state and more cheerful expression, the young woman made her way into the room and over to me, her shadow in tow. 

Before anyone could speak, however, my stomach gave a noticeable growl.

“Um, do you mind if we eat?” I asked, placing one hand over the vocal body part in an effort to hush it.

Garnering a few chuckles at my expense, we all moved to sit around the desk, including Kåre who took his place next to Inger. When the lids on the trays were raised, I breathed a sigh of relief, oddly grateful there wasn’t a strawberry in sight.

~ ~ ~ 

Following our pleasant meal, Kåre had fulfilled his reporting duties, returning with a note in hand addressed to me in a distinctly different handwriting from Loki’s. It had been from Queen Frigga, requesting my presence in her drawing room the following day after morning meal.

Now standing outside of said drawing room, my nervousness was growing for no particular reason. One of my hands unconsciously reached up to grasp the small bottle dangling from my neck, reassuring myself as I had done numerous times since leaving my room that morning that I hadn’t forgotten the magical elixir.

“Ready,  _ dauðleg kona _ ?”

My shadow gave me a kind look, waiting for my nod before knocking. 

“Come in,” came the soft tones of the queen.

Opening one of the doors, Kåre stepped back to allow me to enter first. The queen, settled comfortably in her sitting chair as she had been on my previous visit, gave me a welcoming smile as she raised a cup of some steaming liquid to her lips. I stepped inside, hovering near the still open door, unsure of what to do.

The room was similarly situated as it had been before, the crackling fire pit warring with the chilly morning air coming from the opened windows. The stone floors were adorned with intricately woven rugs while sweeping swaths of cream-colored fabrics hung aside the singular wall of windows, even the set of doors that looked to lead to a balcony of some sort were opened wide to let the room breathe. 

On the opposite wall, a series of bookshelves with older, faded tomes took up much of the space behind a delicate-looking writing desk, its cubbies containing numerous rolls of paper. This time, I also noted a handful of knickknacks arranged about the room, undoubtedly personal possessions of the queen. They gave the room an air of being lived in and comfortable. I liked it.

“Please, my dear, come sit down,” Frigga offered, flourishing a hand to the lounge I had once occupied. “Kåre, would you please close the door? I think a bit of privacy is in order.”

I glanced back to watch him give a head bow to the queen before quietly closing the door behind me. I made my way over to the lounge and took a seat nearest the queen who looked as resplendent as ever in a deep gold, velvety gown, complimenting her caramel hair that was carefully piled in twists and braids atop her head.

Looking down at my modest, woolen work frock--what I had deemed the most appropriate to wear that morning--I quickly ran my hands over my skirt, a ridiculous attempt to remove any unsightly wrinkles.

“How are you managing this morning, my dear?” asked the queen once she put her cup back on the side table. She reached over to a small plate of what looked like tea biscuits, offering the plate to me, but the slight butterflies in my stomach had me declining the offer.

“Much better, your grace,” I said while, again, grasping at the vial sitting over my chest. “Thanks to this. It worked amazingly. Thank you.”

“I am quite relieved to hear your health has improved,” she said kindly, reaching over to take one of my hands. “I am  _ so  _ very sorry for what I must have put you through, Rune.”

“What  _ you _ put me through?” I asked, confused.

The queen gave a soft sigh, shaking her head. She leaned forward and took my hand into both of hers, a disheartened tone evident when she spoke.

“I should have been plain with you the last time you were here,” she explained. “Had I just voiced my suspicions then about your seidr…”

She looked down at my hand in hers. Though my work frock was long-sleeved, it fell short of hiding all of the bruises. When she looked back up, I could see the building tears in her eyes. Her lovely face was heartbreaking.

“It wasn’t your fault, your grace. Really, don’t feel bad,” I awkwardly tried consoling her. I truly held no blame towards the queen.

She smiled, a tear escaping her lashes, and leaned forward to cup my cheek with one of her warm hands.

“You are too kind, Rune,” her voice sounding almost like an admonishment as she quickly wiped at her eyes. “Apologies must be made.”

“I assume that is my cue.”

The droll voice that came from the balcony had me turning to watch as the dark omen that was Loki stepped through the open doors. He stopped just inside, giving us both a look of, “You called for me?”

_ Pausing for dramatic effect, the great peacock _ . 

I rolled my eyes and returned to facing the queen, choosing to acknowledge him as little as possible.

However, I watched him from out of the corner of my eye as he made his way into the sitting area, walking around the firepit to sit opposite of me in a replicate sitting chair of his mother’s. But before he could settle himself into it, the queen intervened.

“You will not sit until you have asked for Rune’s forgiveness, Loki” she proclaimed, giving her son a commanding look. “I did not raise a brute for a son.”

“Though he may have the intellect of a beast, I would hardly call Thor a brute,” he jested, earning a hard look from his mother. The slightest flush tinted his pale cheeks as she held his gaze.

“Are you going to stand there, taking no blame for your actions?” 

At the formidable look she gave him, Loki turned his attention to me. 

_ Was that a smirk? _

In the first step he took in my direction, my instincts had me getting to my feet. Readily calling up the previous morning to mind, my brain was urging distance from him once again. Loki stopped almost immediately at my reaction. 

“I will not harm you, girl,” he quietly claimed, his palms held outward, a clear show for me to trust him. 

Glancing at Frigga, who was watching her son carefully, I looked back to Loki, who had more slowly continued his approach until he stood before me. He looked down, his blue eyes watching my reactions as he reached down to take my two hands in his. 

The initial touch had me taking in a sharp breath. 

The quiet noise had Loki briefly pausing again, but when I didn’t pull away, he proceeded, raising our hands between us, the backs of mine resting in the palms of his. His long fingers rested against the backs of my wrists while his thumbs wrapped around to rest on my pulse. 

Gently, the pads of his thumbs made soft circles across the sensitive flesh, the dormant embers low in my belly stoked to life. And as was my luck, I felt the telltale blush burst across my cheeks, earning a private grin from Loki. 

“My apologies,” he voiced loud enough for his mother to hear, adding under his breath, “pet.” 

I scowled at him, ripping my hands from his. He took a few steps back from me, his own hands raised in surrender, as he mockingly smiled. 

“I meant you no harm.” 

He proceeded to take his seat across from me, his long legs stretched before him as he leaned back. I recalled the similar reposed manner he took when we had shared breakfast the previous morning. He played the part of indifference well. I knew better though. 

I continued to shoot daggers at him as I took my seat again. 

“It is only an illusion,” he spoke, his eyes looking down at my hands now resting in my lap. 

Following his gaze, I was met with unmarred skin where the bruises had once been. Without thinking, I rubbed my fingers over where the bruises were last, wincing when I pressed too hard. A low chuckle found its way out of Loki.

“Listening must be such a challenge.”

“Should I have reason to believe your word, or do you take me for a fool?” I asked flatly, throwing Odin’s own words back at his youngest son.

We looked at one another, my needling causing a ticking in his jaw, his fingers lightly gripping at the arm rest he leaned against. The antagonizing feeling in the room was quickly broken by a quiet snicker.

Queen Frigga had raised her hand to cover her mouth in embarrassment, unable to completely hide her humored smile in time. She looked to her son, who was beginning to brood, choosing to give his attention to the fire.

“I do not mean to make light of the situation, my dear Rune,” apologized the queen. “My son has yet to learn that respect is not expected but earned. Perhaps where I have failed in educating him on the matter, you will prove more effective.”

The queen’s words had me looking at her warily.

“That is beyond my capabilities, your grace.”

“Too right you are, girl,” Loki sneered, turning to his mother. “Could we steer the conversation to the point, Mother? I have other matters to attend to this morning.”

I looked to the queen as well, my curiosity peaked. Giving a mild look of disapproval to her son, she turned back to me.

“Though the discovery of your seidr must come as a shock to you, Rune,” she began in a soft tone, “it has become evident that your powers put others in harm’s way, including yourself.” 

One look at Loki, now watching me with subdued interest, had images of his crazed manner under the influence of my seidr flashing in my mind. I lowered my eyes, a flush of embarrassment and guilt taking hold.

“I’m sorry,” I muttered. “I didn’t know I was using it.”

“That is the precise point,” stated Loki. “You lack control.”

“As would you, my son, had you no master,” chastised the queen before returning her attention to me. “Seidr requires discipline and training, just as much as honing any other skill. That was the very reason why I summoned you the other day, my dear.

“When Head Cook  Andhrímnir had offered up one of your innocent little cakes after I wandered into the kitchens in search of something sweet,” she continued, “the power of your seidr was overwhelming from the first bite.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, agitation growing in my voice. “Are you saying my seidr was in the cake, too?”

At the confirming nod of the queen, I clapped my hand over my mouth in horror. 

“Then, you’re saying that I drugged everyone who ate the cakes? The kitchen servants? Fulla?  Kåre and Inger? Eir!” I exclaimed through my fingers. 

A feeling of sickness shot through me, distinctly different from my previous bouts of illness; this stemmed from fear of myself, of what I could do.

“Do not forget the queen,” added Loki, kindly being thorough in listing my victims.

At the appalled look on my face, Queen Frigga quickly reached out to take my hand in hers once more.

“Now, calm yourself, Rune,” she hushed. “Though the seidr was strong, it was neither harmful nor malicious. Quite the opposite, actually.”

“I drugged my friends,” I whispered, more to myself than to my audience.

_ I could’ve hurt someone, _ I thought miserably. 

The sudden intruding memory of the cracked floor beneath my feet had me pulling my hand from the queen’s grasp, terrified that even touching her would somehow make my seidr come out again.

“Rune? Listen to me,” the queen commanded. She reached out, taking my hand again despite my reluctance, pulling me out of my self flagellation with a soft tug on my arm until I looked at her again. “You put love into that cake. They were feelings of warm care and powerful gratitude. Were you thinking of your friends when you made it?”

Taking a moment to think back to that evening in the kitchens, nodding, I explained, “I made the cakes as a thank you to Eir, to all of them, for their kindness and friendliness.”

“I imagine you received several kind compliments the next time you met with them after eating the cake, yes?” knowingly asked the queen.

I tried recalling the events after that joyous meal with my newfound friends. Though only two days had passed, it seemed so long ago considering all that had occurred since.

_ So that was why  _ _ Kåre was downright cheery that morning, and Inger told me how much she appreciated me. And then  _ _ Andhrímnir was all smiles and praises. _

I gave her another nod.

“When you came to me that day, I wanted to confirm your seidr abilities in some way,” said the queen kindly, but then a small crease found a place between her eyebrows, “which is why I had sent you off to see my son. Before broaching the topic with you, I had wished for him to confirm my thoughts, that you had seidr. Some of his skills in seidr surpass even my own, that potion around your neck a fitting testament.”

I looked down at the vial and over to Loki. He cocked an eyebrow in response but remained silent.

“Please know, my dear,” she continued, “that I would have never given you such a task had I known its conclusion.”

She gave a hard look back at her son.

“And now I fear my son has ruined any chance for you to accept my proposition.”

“What sort of proposition?” I asked, unsure what she was leading up to.

“As you are untrained in seidr, wherein lies the danger,” she explained, “I believe it would be best for you to begin training immediately.”

“You want to teach me magic?” 

The thought was ridiculously comical in my head, pulling rabbits from top hats being the first image that came to mind. But the reality that I could have potentially hurt so many over the last few days sobered me quick enough.

“Yes, my dear,” said the queen with an amused grin at my word choice. Then, she gave Loki a sidelong glance before looking back at me. “To be perfectly honest,... _ we _ would like to train you.”

“We,” I repeated. 

I looked to Loki, expecting him to deny his mother’s implication of him, but he continued his quiet observance of the conversation. I didn’t like it. Loki could be infuriating nearly every time he opened his mouth, but his silences were unnerving.

“Though each of us is adept at seidr,” elaborated the queen, “our talents lie within particular manifestations. And as it is still unclear where your talent with seidr may lie, it would be best if you were given comprehensive instruction to begin.”

_ That means more Loki, _ I thought despairingly, looking back over to what had become an eerie statue sitting across from me.  _ What does he think about all of this? _

“And what do you think?” I eventually questioned, deciding to just ask him outright.

“Clearly, I am interested in your training, or I would not be sitting here,” he replied dryly. 

“Should you at any time wish to cease your training,” the queen paused, looking down at my hand in hers, “we will respect your decision. Is that not so, Loki?” 

The queen paused again for his mumbled acquiescence before continuing on.

“I know that little we say can dissipate your apprehensions, Rune, not after...what happened; however, I truly believe that ignoring the predicament before us will only lead to more outbursts of your seidr.”

My own mind was doing a fine job without the queen’s help in convincing me of the severity of the situation.  _ What if you end up hurting your friends...or worse? Or a member of the royal family? You’d find yourself in a comfy cell courtesy of Odin soon enough if you weren’t executed first. _

I looked over at Loki again, this time studying his still quiet demeanor, trying to figure out what was going through his mind. He gave nothing away, though. It was maddening.

_ You’d have to put up with him. You’d undoubtedly have to work closely with him. Could you do that? Knowing what you admitted to him… _ My fear of Loki was still rooted deep in my chest, but the cause for the fear had altered. 

_ You want him. And that scares you, _ reminded that irritatingly correct voice, but I couldn’t argue against it now.  _ Is it worth putting others at risk, just because you’re embarrassed? _

That really was the question, and I didn’t hesitate in my mind as to what the answer was.

“When can we start?” I asked, turning back to Queen Frigga.

The smile she gave me was warm, giving her the opportunity to finally relax. I had only then noticed that she had been leaning forward, her hands tightly grasped in her lap. She sat back and relaxed her hands, folding one over the other.

“Thank you, my dear, for trusting us,” she said with all seriousness. “We will do our best to earn back your faith.”

“She will need to earn ours as well,” came Loki’s voice. 

He watched me carefully, waiting for me to say or do something, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. Because he was right.

“You’re right. You shouldn’t trust me,” I said to Loki, then turning to the queen. “But I promise I will try my best to learn from you.”

My eyes returned to Loki, who looked mildly surprised at my answer. But quick enough, his usual grin returned as he stood. He slowly walked over to the firepit, extending his hands to warm them.

“With that attitude, you will make a fine apprentice,” kindly replied the queen.

“Your training will begin tomorrow morning, girl,” said Loki, determined to keep the conversation on task, earning a disapproving tut from his mother. “However, before we begin, you must agree to some rules.”

He clasped his hands behind his back and turned to face me.

“As you are a fragile mortal, the  _ magic  _ may harm your body at first, evident in your need for that bobble around your neck,” he said snidely. “As a result, you will need to be monitored closely.” 

“Which means?” I asked cautiously. 

“As has been established, you will continue to be guarded while attending to your daily duties. At all other times, you will find yourself at the side of either me or the queen.” 

The prospect of inevitably increased time with Loki had my stomach in knots.  _ But what choice do I have? _ I nodded in agreement, and Loki proceeded.

“In addition, for the safety of all involved, you will adhere to our instruction without question unless you wish to have your training promptly halted.” 

_At least I have the choice to quit if I want to_ , I tried reassuring myself as my freedoms seemed to keep being whittled away. Loki didn’t bother waiting for my acknowledgment before continuing his list of regulations.

“And though my mother may disregard it,” he said, frowning at her before returning his gaze to me, “I will not tolerate disrespect, girl.” 

I gave him a leveled look, his cold eyes intent on staring me down. 

“You are absolutely correct, your  _ grace _ ,” I ground the word out. “But respect goes both ways, and I have a name.”

I noticed the tick returning to his jaw. Before Loki could respond, though, a resounding knock interrupted the conversation followed by Thor’s booming voice as he let himself into the queen’s drawing room.

“--only doing your duty, there are no doors in this palace closed to me,” he said, laughing and slapping Kåre’s armored shoulder as he passed.

Kåre looked confused as to what to do, stepping in the room behind Thor, only to go still at the sight of Loki’s figure standing before us.

“It is quite alright, Kåre,” assured the queen with an indulgent smile, turning to greet her firstborn as he bent to kiss her cheek. “And what have you to say that is so important you must interrupt my private council?”

My shadow didn’t budge, however. He looked from Loki to me on the lounge, a look of consternation furrowing his brow. I gave him a small smile of reassurance that I was fine.

“Did you not hear your queen?” Loki said, interrupting Thor’s excuses and turning his narrowed eyes to the guard. “You are dismissed.”

His gaze having been drawn back to Loki, his prince, Kåre hesitated for only a brief moment before giving the smallest bow of his head and turning on his heel to leave. The door closed softly behind him.

“A pup of a guard, is he not, brother?” joked Thor, giving his brother a smile. 

However, his brother was paying him no attention. Instead, Loki had turned his attentions to me after Kåre’s departure, his calculating look making me shift in my seat. Having followed his brother’s gaze, Thor finally noticed me.

“Fiery girl!” he exclaimed in recognition, stepping past his mother to take a seat next to me. The weight of him jostled the lounge and me along with it. “Where have you been hiding?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at the golden prince’s more exuberant and openly friendly nature. 

“It’s easy to hide in such a large place.”

“You know, as children” he said more quietly, leaning over to whisper conspiratorially as though we were close confidantes, “Loki and I discovered all of the good hiding spots. Once, Mother had the entire palace searching for us. Come to find out, we had gotten ourselves trapped in--”

Whatever they had gotten trapped in remained a mystery as Loki cut across his brother.

“Though as thrilling as tales of our childhood are,” he said with a tone of boredom, “we have business to conclude here, brother. If you would not mind giving us--”

“I believe that is enough for today, Loki.” This time, it had been the queen who interrupted. “Rune, dear, I imagine you have become sorely missed in Healers Hall and would not wish to keep you any longer from your duties.”

“Of course, your grace,” I said, taking my cue to leave. 

Rising to my feet, I gave her and Thor both a smile before turning to see that Loki had maneuvered himself into my path, barring my exit. I stopped in front of him, looking up to meet his gaze.

“Is there something else?” I asked after he didn’t speak.

“Only a reminder,” he finally said, his eyes beginning to shine with amusement. “Do not neglect what is expected of you.”

_ He’s going to milk this for all it’s worth _ , I groaned internally.

“Of course not,  _ your grace _ ,” I said reluctantly.

He sneered down at me, a look of smug satisfaction plastered across his stupid face. He stepped out of the way, however, allowing me to leave.

~ ~ ~ 

Reassuring Kåre that I was perfectly fine the entire way back to Healers Hall was challenging. His insistence that he didn’t want to leave me there with Prince Loki, that he couldn’t refuse an order, that he felt badly for obeying it, was heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time. 

“You couldn’t have done anything, Kåre. And the queen was there the entire time,” I reassured him. “She wouldn’t have let anything happen.”

_ It’s not going to go well when he finds out you’re going to be training under Loki _ , I thought worriedly.  _ You need to make him stop worrying--all of them. _

“Look!” I said, holding my wrists up and pulling down the sleeves in turn, showing off my lack of bruises. “He fixed these. And he apologized.”

Kåre looked at me from the corner of his eye.

“And you believed him?” he asked, the barest hint of hope buried in his tone. It didn’t surprise me that the young guard wanted to find reason to think well of his prince again. 

All I could manage was a perfunctory nod as I opened the door to the hall and we both entered.

“And I have some interesting news to share.”

“What news?” called Inger from a nearby bed as she bandaged what looked like a chambermaid’s hand.

“Rune? You have news?” asked Eir as Kåre and I approached the desk.

The conversation took longer than I had expected. After relaying what had happened after Kåre’s delivery of me to the drawing room, from the queen’s apology to Loki’s appearance and apology, I modeled my unmarked limbs as I had done with Kåre. Though Kåre still looked slightly concerned, his mouth set into a frown, and Inger gave me a small smile to show her support, Eir crossed her arms over her chest, a hard look settling over her face.

“It seems evident that Queen Frigga believed the prince’s sincerity. Do you?” she asked, watching me closely as I answered with another head nod.

“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have agreed to apprentice for the queen and the prince, would I?” finally getting to the point. “Both the queen and prince want to train me to control my seidr, and I agreed to it.”

My audience sat silently, the initial shock holding sway. Inger was the first to recover.

“Does that mean we will no longer be working with one another?” she asked disappointedly, warming my heart.

“I’m supposed to go about my same duties except when I’m training with them.”

“The queen has made it clear that she will be training you herself?” asked Eir warily.

“She and the prince are going to split my training between them.” My reply only deepened the frown lines around Eir’s mouth. “But I can stop training at any time if I want. They both agreed that it will be my choice whether or not to train.”

Eir still looked unconvinced.

“Eir, if I don’t do this,” I said, deciding honesty was the best way to convince her, “they--and I--are worried that I might hurt someone. I mean...I could have poisoned all of you…”

The pain of that thought hit me hard again, making it difficult to look any of them in the eye. I decided to stare at my treacherous hands.

“I didn’t only put seidr in Prince Loki’s tart. The queen revealed to me that I had done it with the cake, too,” I admitted, keeping my eyes down, mortified to look at any of them. 

The quiet response, though not surprising, somehow felt worse than if they had yelled in anger, pointing accusatory fingers at me. The silence was too ambiguous.

Inger’s soft laughter broke the tension, and I felt my shoulders unwind. They had at some point bunched up protectively around my ears.

“That evening was the best respite I have had in a millennia,” said the young woman, smiling at me in a pleased way. “Did your seidr do that?”

“I cannot remember having a better cake,  _ dauðleg kona _ ,” chimed in  Kåre, a dreamy grin crossing his face.

“He was unable to talk about anything else,” she teased rather than scolded him. The confident looks they exchanged revealed that whatever was between them had been settled to the happiness of both parties.

_ I really need to talk to Inger _ , I reminded myself yet again.

“Rune.”

It was Eir. 

“Do you recall what we spoke of before your first treatment?” her voice coaxed gently. “Do you recall what advice I gave you?”

_ Learn and choose to do better. _ I watched her hopefully, nodding my head.

“Your choice to be trained is for the better,” she confirmed, a solemn but determined look in her eye. “You are doing what is right.”

Having Eir’s support bolstered my spirits like nothing else had, a sense of determination filling me, my enthusiasm to start my training immediate. I wanted to prove to Eir that I could do better; it was the least I could do. 

I spent the remainder of the day flying about, performing various chores and errands for the hall. It didn’t go unnoticed that I was not requested to assist in the kitchens that evening, and though I understood why, the exclusion still hurt. My hands itched to be kneading dough or salting a simmering pot. By the end of the evening meal, I was swift to help in clearing the dishes, rushing my evening farewells to get to bed as soon as possible. 

_ Tomorrow can’t get here quick enough _ , I thought as I entered my room, ready to fall into bed. The thought had me pause after lighting the bedside lamp, chuckling at the irony of wanting to speed along the next meeting with the man of my nightmares. 

_ ‘Always running off.’ _ His words reverberated through my head.  _ Not this time. _

I turned from the lamp, then, only to find what little possessions I had strangely absent from my room. 

Walking to the tall, wooden wardrobe where I hung the few pieces of clothing from Fulla as well as my long forgotten jeans and blouse, I opened it to find empty space. 

I looked back to the stripped bed, my blankets having been removed as well.

I turned slowly on the spot.

There was nothing.


	10. Ch. 10 - Óðr

Kåre’s nightly replacement was having a difficult time keeping up with my irked pacing, his armor clamoring throughout the corridors as we neared Loki’s rooms. When I had discovered that someone had ordered my room to be cleared out, I had a more than certain idea of who was to blame.

_ He needs to stop with the games if this is going to work _ , I thought angrily. I didn’t have the energy to waste worrying over what he was going to do next.

Approaching the guard to his rooms, I briefly thought about how I would get past the sentinel, but the errant thought was unnecessary as the man stood to the side when I drew near.

“He is awaiting your arrival,” he said as I stopped next to him, taking a moment to recover from my rushed pace.

“Of course...he is...,” I said sourly between breaths.

Once fairly composed, I marched into the darkness, my steps echoing along the wooden corridor, not stopping even when I reached his doors. I stepped into his rooms without ceremony, only stopping to assess where he was with no success. The sitting and dining areas were both empty though a low burning fire sat in the grate. 

A movement to my right caught my eye. It was Loki’s silhouette in the doorway at the end of the runner. He looked to have a book dangling from one of his hands at his side. He leaned against the doorway, observing me for a moment.

“Where are my things?” I asked quietly, doing my best to not lose my temper right at the start.

“Such paltry possessions could hardly be worth the bother,” he said in a bored manner, adding as he turned to retreat back into the room, “Close the door behind you, girl.”

I stood still for a moment, undecided on what to do. Common sense told me to turn and leave, sleep in Healers Hall if I must rather than step further into Loki’s rooms.  _ You can’t keep running away. You have to face him at some point,  _ spoke up the other voice.  _ Where’s your backbone, Rune? _

If preference could have been considered, I would have chosen to illustrate the existence of my bravery during the day and decidedly somewhere other than the lair of my personal demon. But I didn’t have the choice. I closed the door behind me and cautiously walked the length of the rug up to the set of doors Loki had disappeared behind.

Poking my head in first, I glanced around at the sparsely decorated room. Directly across from where I stood was a large bed, made of the same dark wood as everything else, rich black furs strewn across cream-colored sheets. In the corner to its right was a display of Asgardian armor, a heavy bronzed chest piece with a great horned helmet atop it. The added heavy cape pinned at the shoulders gave the initial illusion of a person standing there. A heavy wardrobe occupied the corner directly to my right, a closed door to another room the only other noticeable feature. To my left, a set of double-doors were opened to a balcony, but the dark of the night sky kept me from appreciating the view it offered. Loki, returning to his previous task before I had interrupted, was comfortably situated, enjoying the chill of the autumn air the night had to offer. 

He sat in a deep, cushioned sitting chair in the corner to my left, his booted feet propped on a matching automan clad in cream-colored soft leather. He leisurely turned the page, continuing his book as though I weren’t there.

“Is your mind so addled that I must consistently repeat myself?” he asked in a bland tone, not raising his eyes from the page they perused. “Or do you purposefully ignore my direction?”

I stared at him, confused as to what exactly I had done wrong already.

“Your grace?” I questioned, assuming he was upset at my lack of respect when asking for my things.

“The door,” he answered flatly.

“Oh,” I mumbled, turning and closing the door despite my every urge that was screaming not to.

When I had turned back around, Loki had closed his book and set it on a small table that rounded out his solitary sitting area.

“You claim to not know where your belongings have gone,” he said, “and yet here you are.”

He paused for me to say something, but I was at a loss. I must have looked confused, prompting him to continue.

“Whether it is pure forgetfulness or intentional disrespect,” he said with a growingly snipped tone, his words beginning to have sharp edges to them, “I will grow weary of having to repeat myself.”

_ What am I forgetting now? _ I thought, beginning to feel uneasy.

“First rule,” he prompted, one of his forefingers tapping against the creamy leather of an armrest.

It felt like a test and I wasn’t about to fail right from the start. 

_ First rule? From earlier. Something about spending time with him and the queen when I wasn’t working, right? _

And things began to slide into place in my head. 

Whatever Loki had seen transpire on my face had resulted in a devilish grin plastering his own.

“Oh, you remember now?” his sarcasm landing on deaf ears as I stared at him in disbelief.

“You must be joking.”

“Quite often, yes,” he smirked, amused by his own joke.

Not willing to wait for a straight answer, I turned and headed for the heavy-looking wardrobe. I opened wide the double doors, revealing the varied garments of Loki’s, a blur of leathers, richer materials, and dark shades. Peeking out from behind a particularly high-collared, dark jacket was my blouse. I pushed his garments aside to reveal my other few items of clothing neatly hanging there.

_ This can’t be happening, _ I groaned internally.

I heard Loki get out of his chair, his booted steps growing louder as he drew nearer. I turned to watch as he sat at the foot of his bed, leaning one shoulder casually against one of the elaborately carved bedposts. His arched eyebrows over widely innocent eyes had me clenching my teeth, desperately trapping my tongue for fear of what it might say.

I took a deep breath in through my nose, slowly letting it out. A brief flash of amusement brightened his eyes and a twitch of the mouth before he held the mask of innocence back in place.

“Your grace,” I started, measuring my tone, “you can’t have meant this when--”

“I said precisely what I meant,” he interrupted. “When not attending to your other duties, you will be at my side.”

“Or the queen’s,” I added, not about to allow him to sway the argument entirely in his direction. “If I have to sleep near one of you, wouldn’t it be more appropriate that I were with the queen?”

“What is  _ appropriate _ ,” he grinned at the word, “has no bearing on the matter, pet.”

I scowled at the nickname he had annoyingly come to favor. He leaned forward, his arms resting on his thighs, that stupid grin on his face. He was obviously enjoying himself, which rankled me more.

_ Don’t let him get you riled. Control. That’s why you’re in this mess. Hold it together. _

I let out another low, measured breath. 

“Then, what does matter?” I asked, wanting to find a foothold. “Why do I have to stay with you?”

He cocked an eyebrow, challenging, “Have I not repeatedly proven to be the catalyst for your seidr?”

I involuntarily cringed. Somewhere in me, I had held onto some small bit of hope that, after the apology earlier that day, we could have left the whole incident in the past. However, Loki wasn’t ready to forget it, apparently. The immediate heat that rose to my face had me crossing my arms in tetchy embarrassment.

“I didn’t need you to trigger my seidr for the cake,” I countered, as though it were something to take pride in.

He considered my point with a small nod before giving a charming, dimpled smile. It caught me off guard, and I couldn’t blink for a moment, fascinated by it. Had he used seidr, I couldn’t have been more mesmerized.

“Odds are in my favor.”

I finally blinked and returned to frowning at him.  _ He’s not wrong, though, _ said the other voice.  _ He certainly knows how to bring it out of you. _

“Of course,” he drawled as he rose from the bed, “you may always choose to leave.”

With direct purpose, he made his way over to me in only a few strides from his lengthy legs. Taken off guard yet again, I scurried back, letting out a colorful exclamation as I nearly planted myself inside the wardrobe. Loki came to a stop just before me, my hands raised in defense, hovering an inch away from his chest. I looked up at him in shock.

He was watching me carefully, his eyes shining with amusement again but with something else burning slowly to the forefront. Whatever it was in addition to his closeness had me shallowing my breaths, the urge to be quieter, to move less, overwhelming me. His lip curled.

Without ceremony, he began removing his coat, sliding one arm out and then the other. All the while, he watched me as I stood there, awkwardly trapped between him and the wardrobe. At first, I watched his hands in their movements, concerned they would snatch at me. Then, one of them reached over my shoulder to hang up his coat. My eyes froze, staring blankly at nothing, too terrified to move.

After what felt like an eternal pause, he retracted his hand and took a small step back, allowing me to slowly straighten up and learn to breathe again. As I did so, I became easily distracted by him loosening the lacing at the top of his tunic, revealing a small patch of skin just below his throat. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he grunted at my inability to look away. Somewhere deep in my head I knew I was failing at not letting him affect me, but it was slowly being buried under a thick, pillowy cloud of lustful intrigue.

His hands were busy again, inviting my eyes to watch them roll up the sleeves of his tunic to reveal his leanly muscled arms. A familiar scent hit me then, the smell of leather and...that something else. It was something distinctly Loki.

“Perhaps you would prefer some time to think things over,” he said, causing me to finally look up at him. 

He stepped to the nearby door, opening it to reveal what looked like a bathing area. He turned back to me.

“Unless you would rather join me, pet?”

_ Thank goodness for small irritations _ , I thought with relief, the nickname shaking me from my daze.

“I’d rather wait out here, thanks,” I said with as much indifference as I could muster despite moving as far away from him as I could, taking a seat in the solitary sitting chair across the room. I could feel the cool air from the open balcony doors helping to alleviate my flushed face. 

One last grin pulled at his lips before he disappeared into the room. It didn’t go unnoticed that he didn’t bother to close the door behind him.

_ He’s doing this to torture me, _ I thought dismally.  _ This whole training thing is going to be a nightmare if this is how it’s going to be. _

_ Then, leave, _ taunted that other voice.  _ Leave and see what happens the next time your seidr comes out. _

The thought had me suddenly calming down, the tightness in my chest since I realized Loki expected me to stay with him finally easing up. I had lost perspective on why all of this was necessary.  _ There is no choice, Rune. Better just suck it up, buttercup. _ Once I let that thought sink in and settle over the landscape of my life at the moment, I even came to an understanding of Loki’s need to keep me close. I was still a liability.

I got out of the chair and walked out onto the balcony, carefully leaning over the balustrade to see what lay below. The world was muddy black, but in the distance to the left was the distinct glow of the city and beyond that small pockets of light where villages cropped up. Streaking from the city was an amazing bridge of sorts. It looked to be made of glass but glowed with every color. Its luminescence reflected off of what looked like a large body of water until it ended at a golden dome of sorts far in the distance. And beyond that was…

I turned my back to it, the sight of infinite space sending me for an emotional ride. It was so incredibly awe inspiring and truly exquisite in its seeming proximity but also so very alien. In mere moments, it was more of Asgard than I had experienced in the weeks since arriving. 

_ Will I ever stop being surprised that I’m here? _ I asked myself exasperatedly.

Some rustling noise came from inside Loki’s room. Then, there was a pause of silence.

“Pet?” he called suspiciously.

I took one last deep breath of the chilled air and headed back inside to find Loki, his hand hovering over the handle leading out of his room. His eyes snapped to me, a sharp glare stopping me in my tracks. 

“I was just enjoying the air,” I said as I awkwardly gestured over my shoulder.

A mild look of irritation pulled at his brow.

“What? Is that against the rules, too?” I asked, balling my fists on my hips. 

Whatever had bothered him prior had evidently become less important as he straightened and turned to face me with a pleased look. His moods were exhausting to follow.

“You plan on following them? Have you decided to remain?”

“Well, I didn’t leave, did I?” I mumbled snarkily.

A nondescript “hmm” was his response as he strolled over to his bed. He was wearing a loose tunic and matching bottoms, a softer shade of black than his now damp mop of hair. He was barefoot, his pale complexion against the dark material making my eyes follow his feet until they disappeared behind the bed.

It hit me rather suddenly that he looked so strange. So normal. So...human. The idea of Loki being just another mortal, small and insignificant, and his undoubted displeasure at having been dealt such a fate had me grinning.

“I am pleased to see you so cheery, pet.”

That wiped the smile from my face quick enough.

He had propped his head and shoulders against the heavy headrest, his hands tucked behind his head in leisurely comfort.

“So I guess I’ll let you sleep, then,” I said with a vague gesture towards him, beginning to propel myself towards the door. The lounge probably wouldn’t be too bad to sleep on.

“And here I started to believe you had fully understood,” he stated, baiting me to stop my progress. I looked back at him.

“Understood what?”

A cheshire cat grin had my heart dropping into the pit of my stomach from dread. He leaned over to pull back the blanket on the opposite side of the bed.

“Nope,” the word came out as a reflex, followed by, “I’ll sleep on the lounge.”

“If you so choose, of course,” I heard back over my shoulder as I grabbed for the handle. 

But the door wouldn’t open. Though there was no sign of a lock, not even a keyhole, the damn thing wouldn’t budge. I turned back to Loki who hadn’t moved a smidge, still smiling.

“Would you open the door, your grace?”

“Should you choose to leave the room of your own accord,” he quietly explained, “you must unlock it first.”

“How?” I asked with a bit of sharpness.  _ Do the games ever end with him? _

His grin faded and a more intense look settled into his eyes, like he was preparing for something. It wasn’t helping with my progressively rising anxiety.

“Control, pet.” 

“My seidr?” I asked out of equal parts curiosity and disappointment at what this meant. 

He was smiling again, which never bode well for me.

“The seidr lock was activated the moment you shut the door,” he detailed as I turned to look back at the deceptive handle. “And it will continue to bar your way until you choose to unlock it.”

“I choose now,” I said frustratedly at the handle, yanking at it again, not really surprised that nothing happened.

“You will have your freedom to roam as you please once you choose to make it so,” he explained, amusedly waving a hand to encourage me to keep trying.

I looked back at the door, anxiety building to a new high that had me feeling a tad frantic. I was good and rightly trapped with Loki now, and my previous calm acceptance of the situation was crumbling. Certainly looking silly but too desperate to really care, I held one of my hands over the door handle, willing something to shoot out and blast the door to smithereens. Spreading my stance a bit, I added my second hand into the odd display, straining my muscles and breath as I tried to force something to happen.

“Work!” I grunted, a soft chuckle from behind me causing my teeth to grind.

I eventually slammed both hands onto the handle, gripping it tightly to the point that my knuckles turned white. I could feel beads of perspiration building along my scalp as I resorted to more desperate measures. After a good deal of unsavory expletives along with some slaps and harsh yanks at the immovable piece of metal, it all culminated in the toe of my shoe giving a couple good kicks to the thick, hard wood of the door before I stilled, breathing heavily from the exertion. 

“Damn,” I sighed. My forehead fell with a noticeably heavy thunk against the barrier to my freedom. In nearly all the time I had been in the palace, this was the first time I had truly felt like a prisoner.

“You are fighting a losing battle, pet,” came his darkly low voice from just behind me. 

“God!” I exclaimed in exasperated fright.

I had spun on the spot to see a wall of Loki, the sight of which sent me pressing back into the door. The immovable door handle dug painfully into my lower back, but the pain dulled quickly as my heart picked up in its rhythm, adrenaline coursing through my body at breakneck speed.

“If that is what you wish to call me, by all means,” he sneered down at me.

It was hard not to roll my eyes, but somehow I managed to shut them and wait for the urge to pass before looking back up at his smug face.

“This,” he paused, his eyes trailing down my neck and back up to my face, making me shift uncomfortably, “will come to its natural end, pet. Why rail against it?”

I froze in place, again that urge to be unnoticeable seizing my body as I watched his gaze seem to gain a flame deep inside it. 

“I don’t like this game,” my voice only just above a whisper. 

Loki cocked his eyebrow in a surprised look before asking, “What game is that?”

He was going to get me to say it aloud, again. 

“You keep trying to make me uncomfortable because…because you know I’m attracted to you,” I begrudgingly muttered, embarrassedly looking anywhere but at his face. “I’ve already agreed to be your apprentice. I’m sorry about the tart, but I’m willing to learn from my mistakes. So please...stop.”

I chanced a look and found him with a mildly curious expression. He slowly leant down, drawing his face close alongside mine as he leaned one forearm against the door. I took in a sharp breath and held it, slightly tilting my head away from his.

“You seem to be under the wrong impression,” he said calmly, his voice dropping low enough to cause my stomach to flip-flop. “I will readily admit that I enjoy watching you squirm, pet, but my reasons are pure.”

I then felt him nuzzle his nose in my hair just behind my ear, sending my held breath popping out of my lungs in a surprised rush. He gave a soft hum in the back of his throat.

“That smell is intoxicating.” 

Goosebumps erupted across my scalp and down my neck at the warmth of his breath. I felt about to jump out of my skin.

“What reasons?” I asked, trying my damndest to keep my thoughts from unraveling.

To my relief, he pulled back, meeting my eyes again.

“It pleases me,” he said simply, like a child who admits great joy at the burning of ants with a magnifying glass. Yet, it still seemed an understandable enough answer considering what I knew about Loki, not to mention what I had experienced of him. 

But he wasn’t finished.

“ _ You _ please me.”

“No.”

I hadn’t thought it through before I had said it. The reflex to deny what he had said was strong enough to slip past my lips. He gave a wry smile.

“That was the seidr. That wasn’t you,” I said with conviction, now involving my shaking head in my refusal to acknowledge the validity of what he said.

Without seeing it, his hand had whipped out, his thumb and forefinger taking hold of my chin, stopping my efforts. Embarrassingly, I stilled at his touch. 

_ Why do I keep doing that? I should fight him _ , I thought desperately though my body and mind seemed in disagreement.

“What a funny creature you are,” he said in a softened voice. For a wild moment, I thought he had heard my thoughts, witnessing the conflict between my head and my...well, not heart.

His pinching fingers released my chin, but I couldn’t drop it as the backs of his fingers slowly caressed down the front of my throat. His sharp eyes followed the trail of his fingers as my brain became an empty cave, white noise filling every corner. Reaching their end, his fingers toyed at the collar of my work frock, running his fingertips lightly along where skin met wool. My breathing became a thing I had to willfully think about.

His pale blue eyes found mine; I couldn’t look away. I didn’t want to. I watched as he did the same, both of us searching the other for something. I didn’t know what I was looking for. 

Then...

_ Sincerity? _

The word had flitted to the forefront of the internal hum that had taken over. 

_ Is he being sincere? He can’t be, can he? _

Loki watched my doubtful thoughts play across my face. His mouth twitched slightly. Then, his eyes fell to the tiny glass vial, his lips curling in a way that had a chill running up my back. 

“You have wormed yourself into me, pet. And now I see I will have to do the same,” he stated as the fingers of his right hand traced down the small strips of leather, carefully avoiding making contact with me. His trailing fingers stopped, and with his forefinger, he gently pressed against the glass. The cold, hard object was met with a soft resistance. When I looked up, his eyes were locked on his current task.

“Drop by drop,” he said in a pleased tone as he gave a small tap with each word.

“You...put your seidr in it,” I stated, knowing that I was only voicing the obvious. Something had seemed familiar about the taste. 

_ The smell of Loki… that something else. That’s what it tastes like _ , I distractedly thought, bringing my fingers up to my lips.

Loki’s eyes returned to mine, but they were quickly distracted by my fingers. His tall frame somehow moved even closer to me, an excited smile on his lips, as his drying hair fell around his face.

“Yours tastes…,” he thought for a moment, his tongue peaking out from behind his bottom lip, “warm… like a summer garden…”

His warm breath caressed my face. That smell again, his scent, was everywhere. Now that I knew what it was, I couldn’t help but notice. It was enticing, thoughts of stretching up on my tiptoes to taste his mouth suddenly very alluring. He was so temptingly close. I felt my mouth soften and slightly open, my body taking the wheel. Loki’s eyes darkened.

“An offer then,” he said roughly, his mouth quickly on mine before I could protest...if I had wanted to. 

I felt his hand grasp the back of my head, his fingers digging into my hair to keep me in place. His fingernails scraped along my scalp, sending bolts of tingling sensations down my spine. A muffled moan came unbidden from my throat. His lips were demanding, not allowing me time to pause. When I eventually opened my mouth to allow for a decent breath, Loki’s tongue took the opportunity to dip in for a taste.

A muffled moan came from the back of his throat this time, my thighs pressing together in response. 

But then, just as suddenly as he had attached himself to me, his hand was gone and his lips were ripped away. I heard the whimper before I realized I had made the desperate sound.

“Want something, my pet?” he asked in a surprisingly calm tone, a cruel sneer on his face again.

I wanted him to return his lips to mine. I wanted his hand pulling at my hair again. My whole body was craving him.

_ And he knows it, the smug bastard. _

Taking a deep breath, I glared up at him, answering, “Not a thing.”

That earned a smiling laugh.

“Just as well,” he said lightheartedly, taking a step back from me, allowing me to peel myself off the door. “For I will not be touching you again, pet. Not until you ask me sweetly.”

_ Always with the games!  _ I thought angrily.  _ The arrogant...manipulative-- _

“I have a name, you jerk!”

I found it odd that those were the words that I yelled at him, but they hung heavy in the air still. They suddenly seemed very important. I considered him, watching to see if he’d struggle to remember. I couldn’t recall him ever using it, but something deep in me needed him to say it. 

_ I’m not a pet. I’m a person. Say it!  _

“Rúna,” the word rolled from his tongue smoothly as though it belonged there.

It was my name, but not the name I was known for here on Asgard. No, it was my given name. It was my mother’s name, her mother’s name, a name passed down. It was a name I had forgotten, a history I had forgotten. I could remember my mother vaguely, like a smudged drawing. Nonetheless, she existed in my mind now, just out of focus.

“How…?” I started without finishing, my mind at once overwhelmingly relieved and thoroughly confused at that name falling from his tongue.

“It is your name?” he asked.

“Yes,” I responded distractedly. “But how did you know it? I had forgotten it until just now.”

“It is an old Asgardian name, a name of mystery, born from Odin’s sacrifice to discover the mysteries of the runes,” he explained, all the while walking to retrieve the book he had left on the side table. He returned and handed it to me.

The small, brown book was simply designed on the outside, a knotted frame around a single word-- _ Hávamál _ . I flipped open the first few pages and marveled at the miniscule handwritten lettering that filled each one. There was even artistic lettering that brought color and imagery to the painstakingly crafted book.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, truly intrigued by the little piece of art. “I wish I could read it.”

“ _ The Words of the High One _ ,” said Loki in a bored tone. “My father. Here…”

He reached a hand up to the book and made a small rolling motion with his fingers over its cover. I watched in amazement as  _ Hávamál _ became  _ The Words of the High One.  _ Flipping into the book, each handwritten page was now readable. I smiled up at Loki, lost in the magic of the moment.

“That’s amazing,” I enthused. “May I borrow it to read?”

“What else would you do with it,” he said dully.

I hugged the book to me, excited to learn more without pestering Eir, Inger, and Kåre with incessant questions. He watched me with curiosity. I supposed getting excited about a book wasn’t what he expected.

“So,” I said slowly, “my name is from Asgard?”

“Rather that your ancient people were most likely those who encountered our people whilst on Midgard,” he explained more precisely. “Around the time of the battle with the Frost Giants, the Allfather offered up his life to the Norns who swam amongst the roots of the great tree Yggdrasil. My father was looking to acquire wisdom, and in his sacrifice, the Norns required an eye. Because when needing to read mystic runes, one often thinks that the loss of an eye would be practical.”

Loki’s tone had turned from a school boy reciting a lesson to a sardonic son. I didn’t want to pull at that thread, so I diverted the topic back to the discovery of my name.

“So I descend from the humans who met the Asgardians.”

“Admirers of their rightful gods had we remained on Midgard,” he said, his words dripping in superiority. His snobbish look quickly changed to a more pleased smile as he reminded me, “You referred to me as such only earlier, pet. Tell me. Did it remind you of your place...beneath me?”

I scowled at him.

“Now, now,” he tutted. “That’s no way for an apprentice to act after her benevolent master has given her a gift.”

I glanced down at the book and back at Loki. My fingers gripped around the book tighter. Now that I had it, I had a powerful urge not to give it up.

“Thank you, your grace,” I eventually said with a decent effort at sincerity.

Loki seemed to relax somewhat, his stance shifting back as he leaned on one foot, crossing his arms as he contemplated me for a moment.

“Do you remember your second rule?”

The question wasn’t what I expected, sending me into a frantic dig into my memory.  _ Second rule… second--that was about...following instructions-- _

I looked at Loki worriedly. I nodded.

“Good, pet,” he cooed. Then, his arm shot out, his hand pointing for clarity purposes as he stated, “Now, get in the bed.”

“Really, I could just sleep--”

I yelped, as Loki had lowered his brow in determination and taken deliberate steps towards me, sending me scurrying away from him and nearer the side of the bed he had earlier indicated was where I would sleep. He followed behind me, giving me no way to change my mind until I had finally sat down to his satisfaction. Thankfully, he didn’t hover long, making his way back around to his own side. However, I could feel his eyes watching me.

There wasn’t anywhere to put my new book, so after removing my shoes, I layed the book gently on top of them, tucked against the wall. After that, I sat for a moment, my knees beginning to pop up and down out of nervousness. Loki had made very little sound. 

I glanced back over my right shoulder. He was reclining once again against the headboard, hands behind his head as he met my eyes. This time, however, his lower half was tucked beneath the creamy sheets and warm furs.

“Lie down.”

I felt like a mechanical doll, all awkward movements. I turned my head back to the front and gently leaned to my right until my shoulder and head came into contact with a pillow. Just as stiffly, I lifted my feet onto the bed and tucked my hands together against my chest. I had tried to make myself as unintrusive as possible, my body hugging the edge of my side of the bed.

I thought I heard a quiet laugh behind me, but I refused to turn around. The lights died in a flash, and I spent a few minutes blinking through the darkness at the still-open balcony doors. It appeared Loki slept in a cold room, which made this the first time I was grateful to be wearing the heat-retaining, woolen work frock. I pressed my curled hands into my chest for warmth and slid my feet beneath my skirt.

I heard Loki shift behind me, and then there was a slithering sound across the bed. Instinctually, I braced myself for something, my eyes wide in fright and my shoulders hunched around my ears.

A heavy, flat something fell over me. It was soft and warm.

“The night will be chilly,” came his voice near my left shoulder. “We cannot have your frail, mortal body falling ill.”

I took the edge of fur and pulled it around me with one hand.

“Thank you,” I muttered underneath it.

I heard a nondescript noise and felt Loki shift again before the silence of the night filled the room. 

_ How did it come to this? Me sleeping in Loki’s bed? _

Now that I had the opportunity to ruminate over the day’s events, I had little answers as to how everything had shifted so quickly in the span of a day. I had seidr powers. I was to be trained by the queen and Loki. I would from now on be near enough to a captive of Loki’s. And he was interested in me. The other changes I had slowly or forcefully come to accept, but that last one...

I half consciously followed the moonlight shifting across the floor as my thoughts tumbled through my head. At some point, I eventually closed my eyes, falling asleep under the comforting warmth of the fur.


	11. Ch. 11 - An Inescapable Undertow

I was lying on my side when something warm began caressing one of my ankles in slow, circular strokes. The sensation had me stretching and flexing my toes.

In response, what felt like long fingers curled around my ankle and firmly pulled it to the left, causing my hips to tip and fall back against the cushiony surface. I could see nothing, however, an impenetrable blackness hiding even my own body from my eyes. Despite that, I didn’t feel worried. Just anxious. Another hand had taken the other ankle and pulled it slightly as well, opening my legs purposefully. 

The hands gripped and held my ankles down before releasing a hot pulse of energy that ran up my inner thighs and into my center.

I tried muffling my small moan with the back of my hand, but two more sets of long fingers attached to my wrists, pulling them down to lay near my hips. Another set of heated pulses traveled up my arms, down my chest, and into what was beginning to feel like churning molten between my hips. I couldn’t help but squirm from the heat. 

“Too much,” I whined at the hands, thrashing my head back and forth, the only part of me I could move. Strands of hair plastered themselves to my forehead and temples.

Then, to one side, I felt a hint of relief on my face, a cooling sensation creeping at the edges of my now fevered skin. I moved my head desperately in that direction, dragging the rest of my body with me, fighting the hands to reach that calming balm. 

I felt one clamp of strong fingers release, and then another. My freed limbs joined my efforts to scrabble me closer to my goal. With their combined effort, I finally felt the other two hands snap away in force, and I was swiftly worming closer to the now chilly current.

In the darkness, my forehead met ice, and I let out a satisfied sigh.

~ ~ ~ 

I groggily opened my eyes, expecting to see a crystalline blue wall of glacier ice. Instead, it was a pale white wall of snow but still hard as ice.

The snow gently expanded towards me, and I moved slightly back. It wasn’t snow. It was Loki’s bare chest.

_Hadn’t he gone to bed clothed?_

My eyes, now fully open, indulged in the sight of him, his rhythmic breathing holding my attention for an absurd amount of time. Eventually, I followed along his leanly muscled chest to the dips and hollows along his collar. I watched the calm beats of his pulse, ignoring the errant thought to reach out and fondle it, before tilting my head back to get a glimpse of his sleeping face.

But he wasn’t asleep. 

His pale eyes stared down at me, and I felt like I had been caught doing something I shouldn’t have. His eyes narrowed.

“Would you mind?” he asked in a rough tone.

I quickly retreated away from him and sat up. In the chilly grey light of early dawn, I could see I was on the other side of the bed, Loki’s side, and he was backed against the edge, his body curling away from where I had just been lying. I quickly shifted back over to my side.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized. “I didn’t mean to...crowd you.”

 _Maybe he’ll rethink the whole sharing a bed idea_ , I thought a bit smugly. 

I gave a stretch, my arms above my head as I tried to work out the stiffness of sleep, giving a large yawn. My fingers began working at my hair, sure that it was a frizzed, disheveled mess at this point. I began feeling for the pins that held up my braided hair, tumbling down my back after a small handful of pins were safely tucked into one hand. Deftly, I undid the braid, my scalp aching pleasantly from the relief as I scrubbed my fingers gently through my hair to loosen it more.

“Bath.”

I looked over at Loki who was still oddly set at the edge of the bed. His eyes were closed now, however.

“Bath?” I asked.

“Now,” was his growled response, his eyes remaining closed.

_Someone’s a grump in the morning._

Assuming he wanted some uninterrupted sleep, I carefully moved out of the bed trying not to poke the bear any more than I already had. I even tiptoed my way around the bed and into the other room, quietly closing the door behind me.

A lamp flared high above the room, and I could finally see how absurdly large Loki’s bath truly was. It reminded me of a sunken Grecian bath heated by an underground hot spring. It could seat a party of people in it, and its water looked like glass over the black, polished stone that lined its bottom and sides. It looked fathomless in a way. The rest of the room, its floor, walls, and ceiling were all the same creamy stone as found elsewhere in the palace, making the bath look even more like a bottomless pool in contrast.

I walked to a long sideboard table set along one wall below an etched glass mirror. I set my hair pins on the table followed by my tiny vial, frock and undergarments. After sniffing at a few of the bottles set there, settling on one that smelled clean and subtle, I took it and made my way to the edge of the bath. I set the scented liquid down before dipping my toes in.

The first steps were timid, the black stone giving no hint as to where or if a step existed until my foot made contact. Once I located a ledge to sit on, I hopped the rest of the way in, allowing myself to sink beneath the surface of the water.

My body became undone in the warmth, my muscles relaxing all at once, my joints melting into a soft substance. My head broke the surface, and I proceeded to slowly swim the length of the bath, taking a seat on the underwater ledge on the opposite end. It truly was fit for hosting numerous people at once.

 _Only a prince-- no,_ a god _would need a bath this large_ , I thought with a grin though I was grateful for it in the moment. Its grandeur seemed fitting for Loki.

Loki was _grandeur_ incarnate, a powerful godly prince, painfully attractive as well. _The universe couldn’t have been a bit kinder to him?_ I thought with a distinct tinge of sourness. 

_But he knows your name_ , pitched in that other voice. _He gave you back a memory._

I thought back to that vague image of my mother, a blurred image, flat and lifeless. But she still existed, there in a faded memory. I had a tie back to my home, a past. That gave me a small feeling of joy.

_Loki..._

I dipped back under the water, the lulling silence wiping my mind clear. My heart beat steady in my ears, melodically soothing. Things didn’t seem as pressing in the stillness. I stayed under for as long as I comfortably could, regrettably breaking the surface to catch my breath.

“And here I was, preparing to save my poor, drowned pet,” rang out Loki’s voice, causing me to splutter a bit as my head dipped partially back into the water from surprise. I wiped the water from my eyes and looked across the room at the door.

Already bare chested, Loki had his thumbs notched lazily in the waist of his bottoms, hanging low on his hips. He was pale, lean, and lanky, my eyes unable to do anything but look at his warrior’s body, strong, finely tuned. I eventually made my way up to his face and was met with a challenging look, one eyebrow raised in interest.

I ducked low in the water, hopeful that the heat would hide my reddening cheeks. Loki smiled.

_Damn._

“That looks too pleasurable to pass up,” was his only warning before the remainder of his clothes seemed to disintegrate from his body.

I turned around in record time, swimming to the edge to take a seat. Thankfully, the water provided me some modesty as I clung to the lip of the bath, keeping my sight directly on the wall in front of me until I heard water sloshing around as Loki entered.

Keeping my back to him quickly felt akin to turning away from a predatory animal, dangerous and so very stupid. I turned sideways, not looking at Loki but keeping him in my peripheral view, not sure if I should look at him yet. 

“So modest, my pet. Only earlier, you seemed quite indulgent in your gaze,” he teased from across the bath.

I chanced a glance at him, breathing a sigh of relief when I saw him standing at the other end, his lower half submerged.

“You could have waited until I was finished,” I muttered, shifting to face him. I wrapped my arms across my chest beneath the water, feeling exposed nonetheless. 

Only then did Loki take notice of the bottle sitting near him, and he grinned in that way that had chills running down my spine despite the warm water. He reached out and gingerly picked up the scented liquid, turning to me.

“Did you need this still, pet? Would you like my assistance in _finishing_?” he asked but did not wait for an answer

He moved in my direction, ripples created about his waist as he slid through the water. I made larger ripples, however, sidling myself along the edge of the bath until I reached the corner to my right.

“Th-that’s just fine, r-right over there,” I stuttered, pointing back to where I had been sitting.

“Now, now, pet,” he tsked at me as he drew nearer, “I gave you my word I would not touch you until you asked it of me. Do you not trust me?”

“Not a bit,” I responded without pause. “God of _lies_.”

I had said the final word as though it were an insult, a prickly barb to keep him away, and he did stop for a moment. But to my dismay, it wasn’t either shock or anger I saw on his face. He had smiled gently back at me. He wasn’t exactly happy or pleased. It was something else. His eyes seemed to give a soft look, though, laugh lines appearing at their corners. I felt my heart give a reactionary thump. He looked even better with laugh lines.

“Very good, pet,” he said appreciatively.

He was praising me but the tone was that of a master praising his dog for learning a new trick. I felt my hackles raise up in irritation and scowled at him.

He proceeded his trek towards where I had previously sat and gently deposited the bottle. He then turned to face me, still cowering in my corner. There wasn’t much more than a few strides between us. I could see him taking time to consider his choices, a calculating look on his face as he eyed me.

“I’ll...I’ll use my seidr against y-you,” I stuttered again, cursing under my breath that I couldn’t have threatened in a much more confident voice. He gave a low, unpleasant chuckle.

“Brave little mortal,” he conceded in a low tone. “But do you truly believe you are powerful enough to stop me? With only one chance?”

I thought back to that early morning, when I _had_ stopped him. But it had only been for a moment. I glanced back over to the table and the tiny vial that sat atop it next to my other things. Loki merely watched as my limited prospects at controlling the situation became evident to me.

“Answer me, apprentice,” his voice had become quiet but commanding. He gave me a hard look, waiting for me to acknowledge him.

“No,” I mumbled, disheartened and sinking a bit lower into the water.

“No _what?!_ ” he barked, his voice reverberating throughout the stone room. I jumped a little, straightening my slumped posture.

“No, your grace,” I quickly replied, feeling like a soldier responding to a commanding officer. 

His face softened back into a pleased grin, and I felt my body respond in kind. I hunkered back down into the water, still warily watching him.

“Learn control. Even in deciding whether or not to use your seidr,” he spoke with seriousness. “You control _when_ to use it. You control _if_ you use it. The first of many lessons to come.”

I could hear the commanding officer correcting his soldiers in training. The comparison had me remembering the grimly decorated courtyard and the victims of Loki’s training littering the beds in Healers Hall. His methodology had been pain and humiliation that day. 

_Or is that an everyday occurrence?_

The worried thought had me immediately searching for his hands that were resting beneath the water. I quite suddenly was laboring to keep my breathing even, each breath hitching as my heart began to race considerably quicker despite the distance between us. I knew it didn’t mean much to the god.

As they observed me, those pale eyes seemed to settle on a decision, darkening in response. Decidedly, he took the few strides to reach me in measured steps, unrushed but purposeful, stopping just before my knees that were now being vigilantly squeezed together.

My instincts told me to push my hands out, to fight against him coming nearer, but my brain told me it would do me no good. My one chance with my seidr wouldn’t be enough. And then I would be left completely helpless, at the mercy of the god standing before me. Gripping my arms more tightly over my breasts, I sat there, frozen to the spot. 

“Open your legs.” 

The demand, for it was certainly not a request, had a spike of fear shooting through my chest. I looked up at him, searching his face.

“Unless you wish for me to validate that it was a lie I spoke last evening...,” he threatened in the coolest of voices.

I could open my legs willingly, or he would prove himself a liar. Either way, my knees would separate.

Blinking furiously while staring blindly back into Loki’s chest, I parted my legs. I stopped only to start again when Loki instructed, “More.”

Once they were open enough for him to step one of his thighs inside, he maneuvered the rest of himself in quick pursuit. My legs sprang apart, racing to keep from making contact with him. I felt my cheeks flush at the intimate positioning of our bodies.

The warm, heavy air became laden with the scent of him, and that stillness settled over me once again. This time, I didn’t question it. I knew now why it happened, why my instincts were telling me to be still, to attract no attention. To not fight. For I would certainly lose. My primal self knew that despite the railing yells of indignation bouncing around in my head.

“Control,” he explained in hushed tones as though there were others around to hear him. “Even when it may only be over your own will to act.”

When I didn’t respond, he leaned in closer, causing my neck to find the sharp stone edge of the bath as I leaned away. His eyes roved down toward the water, and I gripped my arms even tighter across my chest, my breaths becoming shallow. His mouth twitched in amusement.

“Would it not save time and energy,” he asked in a honeyed voice, “if you accepted the inevitable, pet? You need only ask sweetly.”

_Cocky bastard._

I glared up at him, raising my chin.

“I’ll ask sweetly when you learn to use my name,” I countered.

“I will remember that, _pet_ ,” he promised darkly. “But make no mistake. You will be begging me to return here, betwixt your legs, by day’s end.”

Before I could do anything more than roll my eyes at him, he had dropped out of sight, his head dipping beneath the water, my legs spread wide still…

Spurred by a fresh wave of embarrassment, I snapped my knees together, but they were stopped mid-close as they were rather abruptly pushed upward and out of the water. They had found themselves hitched over Loki’s shoulders as he resurfaced, stopping only after I yelped as I was pulled to the edge of the stone seat. One of my arms had whipped down to push against the polished stone, trying to right myself to a more vertical position and to keep from making further contact with his body. However, Loki remained crouching, his head nestled between my knees.

“You said you wouldn’t touch me!” I accused, still floundering to pull myself upright despite Loki’s immovable impression of a statue.

“I believe it is you who is doing the touching, pet,” he said with a mocking smile, his eyebrows arched in amusement.

I let out an exasperated groan.

“Would you-- Could you--,” I said as I struggled to unhook my legs. The angle was keeping me from getting leverage, and he knew it. He delighted in watching my struggle.

“Do you have something to ask of me, pet?” 

“Would you lower down a bit?” I grumbled. After he continued to watch me without any indication of moving, I added, “Please, your grace.”

Only then did he lower himself, enjoying the show of me trying to right myself in the process. Just as he got to the point where I could finally gain control of my legs again, he gave a mischievous grin that had me swallowing in nervousness. 

Turning his head, his tongue gave a slow lick to the inside of my thigh. I gasped at the sudden electric shock that shot beneath my skin where his tongue had made contact. It had been shockingly hot, the soft friction making my mouth hang slightly open. 

But before I could do much else, Loki had disappeared again, my legs falling beneath the water once more. His body rippled beneath the water as he made his way to the other end of the bath. 

I watched, slightly dazed, as his dark head emerged first. He stepped up and out of the bath, water cascading off of him in rivulets and drops, from his hair, over his shoulders, and down his back. I dragged my eyes away before I could note much more. Loki was the worst sort of temptation, too readily accessible. 

“Do not dawdle,” he said as he left. I looked over in time to see his usual leathers settling over his frame. His hair already looked combed and dry.

 _I wonder if I could ever use my seidr like that_.

Not about to do so anytime soon, I slid back into the water, dipping underneath the surface to wet my hair again. I took a small amount of liquid from the bottle Loki had oh-so-kindly brought to me and made quick work of washing. I had no doubt the impatient prince would return soon enough if I didn’t heed his words.

Once I had gotten dressed, my wet hair braided and pinned up once again, I placed the tiny bottle securely around my neck. A slight sigh of relief escaped me as I patted the tonic.

 _Keep it close from now on_ , I told myself.

If the short time since waking gave any indication of what the day would hold, I needed to keep what help I had at hand.

~ ~ ~ 

“Oh.”

My shoulders slumped a little as I looked at the rather thick book Loki had deposited into my hands. It was heavy too. Loki’s mouth twitched for a moment at my obvious disappointment. 

As we had made our way out of his rooms, only successfully due to Loki’s hand as I still couldn’t open the seidr lock, he had promised my first lesson-- _Or rather, my second lesson_ \--was going to be “illuminating.” Of course, my mind had excitedly tried to guess what I would be doing with my seidr as one of my hands unconsciously fiddled with the little bottle.

Now seated on a lounge at the far end of a luxurious library, the morning sunlight spilling over my shoulders from the giant, ornate windows, reading wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.

“You must learn control,” he reminded me. “You cannot control what you do not understand. Hence, you must understand first.”

With that, he pushed the book toward me, clear in his meaning. He turned and took a seat in a nearby sitting chair, stretching his long legs before him, crossed comfortably at the ankle. He opened another, smaller book that he had retrieved for himself but eyed me with expectation, waiting for me to start my task before delving into his own book.

 _Nornir_ was the only word on the front, giving away nothing of what was inside the large tome I had balanced across my lap. I tipped open the cover and initially marveled at the artistic lettering and fascinating artwork that took up full pages. The images seemed to undulate, their gold leaf embellishments appearing to flow across the pages, garnering my genuine interest. I ran my fingers delicately along the edge of one of the artistic drawings, a large, multi-tiered tree with golden roots and flickering stars all about it. I moved closer to the picture, my nose nearly touching the page as I squinted to see the minute movements of what looked like women moving amongst the tangle of roots.

Turning the page, I began to read. Less like a lesson, the book was a collection of stories told in verse and prose from different authors, but they all shared the same central figures, creatures called the _Norns_. Though they were sometimes depicted as women, they were also described as uniquely different beings, powerful in seidr beyond even that of the Asgardian gods. The stories seemed unsure of their origin but that they were credited as the first true wielders of seidr, those who could foresee and shape fate.

I was immediately enthralled by the tales of the otherworldly creatures. At one point, I slipped off my shoes and tucked my feet next to me on the lounge, settling myself comfortably as I read on.

By mid morning, I had devoured the entire text, closing it with a satisfied sigh. Loki hadn’t made as much headway in his book, it seemed; his thumb held his place midway through as he lowered it to look at me.

“That was fascinating,” I said with a giant smile on my face. “Are they real? I mean, they almost seem mythical.”

“There is no creature alive that has lain eyes on a _norn_ though many have sought them out,” was his simple answer. “Their power, their seidr, is the only true evidence of their existence.”

Something Loki said the previous night came to mind.

“But didn’t you say that the king had given an eye to them?”

“He was instructed by a seeress on how to appease the _Norns_ ,” he clarified though his voice sounded annoyed. “He never saw one. He only saw less.”

There was that clear distaste in discussing his father as he had the previous night. _Typical father-son issues?_ I wondered for a second.

“Then,” I paused, a bit afraid to offend, “why study them if you’re not sure they’re real?”

 _Let alone sacrifice an eye to them_ , I added only in thought.

Loki tilted his head and had a curious look on his face. He looked somewhat amused and impressed by the question.

“You are not a dolt then,” he said with satisfaction, as though I had performed well. “Answer me this... Why did your people create myths of us rather than histories?” 

I considered the question, wondering why they were myths on Earth. I tried to imagine how I would have reacted had I been on Earth and encountered Loki…

 _No one would believe they’re real. They’re magical. They have real, actual magic._ _How crazy would the world be if seidr existed there?_

Then I remembered that I, too, was a human. And I had seidr. 

_I’m a human with seidr. But...Eir had said there were no records in Asgard of seidr-wielding humans. Or am I--_

I thought I heard a swift, sharp crack between my ears, and I blinked in reaction, losing my thought. I paused, waiting for the sound again, but there was no encore. Immediately beginning to doubt it had ever occurred, I looked over to Loki, trying to deduce from his face if he had heard something.

He only looked at me expectantly, still waiting for my answer. 

“Um, they, uh… we,” I fumbled as I tried to focus on Loki. Curious at my distractedness, he leaned forward a bit to catch my eyes, not letting me look away once he had them. And for once, his piercing gaze grounded me, able to think clearly for a moment. “We wouldn’t believe that seidr is real because it would be terrifying...to know that you exist...with your power. So we dismissed you as fantasy.”

It was the most honest answer I could give.

“My pet has found the heart of the lesson,” he smiled indulgently at me. “Our power exists in the world we wish to shape, what can be. It cannot exist in a world that doesn’t allow for it. Seidr does not exist in the _rational_. It blossoms in the _possible_. And therein lies the power.”

Loki had leant further forward in his seat as he spoke, angling his body towards me as something lit in the backs of his eyes. He looked hungry in a way. That familiar stillness creeped through my nervous system. 

“And what is more powerful in possibility than controlling life and death-- _fate_ \--over all?” his voice had dropped to a hushed tone as though he were merely speaking to himself now though he didn’t lose his focus on me.

 _I would have never thought it possible for creatures like the Asgardians to exist, to truly be a reality_ , I admitted to myself. _Then could it be possible the_ Norns _exist as well, even more recluse than the gods that only recently came into my world of possibilities?_

It was absurd. It was almost painfully terrifying to truly consider, that some powerful entity had complete control over your existence. That you had no autonomy. Only fate.

But there was some solace in it also, a comfort in knowing that you didn’t have to fight for control any longer. What would happen would have always happened, will always happen. Responsibility taken from your shoulders. 

I could feel the two ideologies warring with one another in my head, unable to come to a conclusion of one being more palatable than the other. 

_Why does this feel so familiar?_ I vaguely wondered, giving an audible sigh.

“If the _Norns_ are possible,” I said reluctantly, “then, the power to control life, to steer its course, would be possible. But by that logic, anything that you believe is possible could be true.”

“Yes,” was all he said as he watched me with that same hungry look.

I looked back at him blankly. _Is he expecting me to believe that?_

When I didn’t respond, the excitement in his eyes dulled as his more usual look of arrogant indifference took its place.

“Perhaps that is enough on the subject for now,” he said as he stood and walked over to me. Holding his hand before me, I hefted the heavy book out of my lap.

I watched as Loki drifted down one of the various rows of intimidatingly tall bookshelves, leaving me for only a few moments before returning with another book in hand. 

_Are we spending the entire day reading?_ I thought dejectedly, briefly allowing myself to pine after the excitement and fun of Healers Hall and the kitchens.

The new book, more the size of the one Loki already had tucked beneath his arm, was held in front of my downcast eyes. It had no title. It was merely bound in worn, dark animal skin.

“For your continued edification,” he said with a crooked grin on his face. “We will continue as we have until midday.”

“How much longer until then?” I asked without thinking, sounding like a whiny child even to my own ears.

Loki’s lips twitched with amusement for some reason.

“Soon,” he vaguely replied, turning away to plant himself once again in his sitting chair, legs splayed before him in repose.

Tucking my feet back alongside me on the lounge, I balanced the book on the armrest, turning to the first page of excellently penned handwriting. At first glance, it could have been mistaken for someone’s personal journal had the handwriting not been so precise. I began to read.

Only a few sentences in, I came to an abrupt halt. I suspiciously looked up at Loki, who looked invested in his book again, paying no mind to me in the least. I considered the writing on the page again, reading the sentences once more to confirm what I had first read. The words had not changed.

_“Freya love, she was. A golden goddess, embodiment of the feminine form. No more so than when she writhed beneath, my name on her willing lips."_

I quickly rifled through the first few pages of the unassuming book, skimming through them to confirm my suspicions. Loki had handed me a collection of erotic stories and poems. 

“Do I have to read this?” I asked flatly.

“That or sit quietly.” He hadn’t stopped his reading but answered me nonetheless in a tone of disinterest.

I huffed slightly, crossing my arms and turning away from the book, left abandoned on the armrest. For however long I sat there, it felt like an eternity. The early morning light had brightened and warmed as midday grew near, and I felt myself begin to slowly rise in temperature. There was nothing to distract from the heated touch of the wool against my arms. 

_How long has it been?_ I wondered eventually, glancing back over to Loki who hadn’t seemed to advance much in his book. _Does that mean it’s been a long time? Is he a slow reader? Or does he read at a normal speed, and it’s only been a few minutes?_

No longer willing to put up with the tortuous boredom, I reached out quickly to grab the book in irritation. I turned my back to the armrest and to Loki as best I could and propped the small book up at an angle to offer my face some shade from the sun. It was awkward, and my arms would likely give out after too long in the position. But it gave a small bit of relief.

I turned to the same first story and began to read. 

At some points, I had to skim, the cruder, debasing portions making me cringe at times. And at other points, I was surprised at my responses, feeling my face heat despite the provided shade, my legs squeezing together in earnest. I turned my face more away from Loki in those moments, not wanting to give him the satisfaction he would undoubtedly take from seeing my discomfort.

And yet there were still other points where I felt my heart stir, stories of brave and passionate lovers, poems of beautiful imagery and eloquent words that sang the praises of love’s forms. The book had its merits.

I was engrossed in rereading one of the poems--“The Earth and the Sea”--for the fourth time, rolling its stanzas around in my head like sampling a wine for its various notes, when Loki’s voice rumbled down from above.

“A change of heart, pet?”

I glanced up and over my right shoulder, a bit surprised to see him standing so close and somehow looking taller and more intimidating than usual. Then I remembered I had at some point maneuvered myself into a horizontal position. The small bit of shade just beneath the window ledge, low along the lounge, had tempted me to lie flat on my stomach, propped on my elbows with my ankles leaning against the armrest.

Loki’s eyes leisurely ran down my backside. I sat upright as quickly as I could, Loki taking a small step back just to give me space enough to put my feet onto the floor. His hand came out, palm up, in front of my face.

I looked down at the small book gripped tightly in my hand and back up at Loki who was watching me.

“Can I keep it...a little longer?” I asked, holding my gaze with his. “There are some really beautiful parts. And I’m not finished.”

A smug grin curled his lips, but despite that, I really didn’t think he would begrudge me the book.

“Hand,” he said, his own still waiting for something.

A bit disappointed, I held the book out for him to take.

“Other hand, pet,” he corrected, ignoring the book.

I put my empty hand into his, and before I could question my thoughtless action, Loki jerked me to a standing position.

He left little to no room between us, and I became instantly flustered, my eyes darting around like flighty birds, avoiding Loki’s steady gaze.

“Why would I deny your continued pleasure if it grants me such obedience?” he explained, raising my hand up to his lips, finally garnering my full attention. I watched as though in a trance, waiting to see what happened, a spectator in my own body. 

But before those lips could make contact, a jarringly loud disruption had me whipping my hand away and hiding it behind my back along with my other hand that still held the book.

“ _Brother?”_ hollered Thor through the silence of the library. A clatter of books falling to the floor down one of the rows revealed someone who had been jostled by the thunder god’s booming voice.

Loki’s eyes narrowed, still looking down at me, sour disappointment on his face before his mask of indifference replaced it. He turned to greet his brother who had finally made his way to our quiet reading area.

“Ah! Loki,” he said with a genuine smile, only noticing me when I peeked around Loki who hadn’t budged. “ _Fiery Girl!_ ”

With one swipe of his arm, he shunted his brother to the side. 

The ease with which Thor moved Loki awed and scared me in succession. Loki had always been like an immovable block of stone to me, but to Thor, he was no more than a little brother. I swallowed a little nervously when the powerful god reached out to take one of my hands in his, but after he gave a small bow over it and waggled his eyebrows cheekily up at me, that fear was snuffed out.

“Rune,” I corrected him but with a wide smile. 

It was hard not to be infected by Thor’s sunny disposition. Loki’s unamused face just behind the happy god’s shoulder didn’t disappoint either. I felt like I had only narrowly escaped something and was a bit relieved to see Loki’s disgruntled frown. 

_Why did I give him my hand?_

“Lady Rune,” Thor said more formally, still holding my hand to maneuver us both into a sitting position back on the lounge, leaving no room for Loki.

“You catch on quick,” I said jokingly while giving his brother a meaningful look before turning my attention back to Thor who hadn’t noticed a thing.

“I hear we have acquired a witch in the palace,” the golden god said with a curious smile. He glanced over to his brother who had remained standing, staring at the two of us with vexation. “And that you have somehow bewitched my brother.”

At that, I gave Thor a wide-eyed look. My gaze flicked over to Loki who considered his brother with mild curiosity. Thor was only looking at me, however, a teasing smile still plastered on his face.

“I, um… I’m not sure what you mean,” I managed, playing dumb.

Thor gave a great laugh that somehow dispelled my fears.

“No, I suppose you would not understand. I was disbelieving myself when our mother informed me that Loki was taking an apprentice under his wing,” he said with amusement, the tension in my shoulders melting at his words. “You must be impressive.”

I blushed a bit at the compliment and Thor’s inquisitive blue eyes as he waited for an answer. Before I could speak though, Loki interjected.

“Not particularly,” he jadedly stated, once again seating himself and taking the same reclined posture he had throughout most of the morning.

I glared at him, which made Thor laugh again.

“She seems to think otherwise, brother,” he chuckled.

“Yes, well, what delusions occupy her thoughts matter not,” Loki said dismissively.

 _Oh really?_ I could feel the anger rising in me, the urge to pick a fight growing stronger with each moment I looked at Loki’s arrogant face. _He certainly didn’t seem to think I was unimpressive that early morning in his rooms_.

I bit my tongue, however, clenching my fists into balls as I tried not to lash out. Lucky for me, Thor managed to voice what I was curious to know though I would have asked in a much less respectful manner.

“Why bother wasting your time--and hers--then, brother?” Thor queried. “I have never known you to put efforts into fruitless endeavors.”

“Merely an amusement,” Loki replied, a slight sneer curling his lip.

_I’m an amusement, huh?_

With intent to ruffle Loki’s detached demeanor, I turned towards the god next to me and smiled brightly at him, choosing to act as though Loki didn’t exist. Thor smiled back, a slight look of confused curiosity playing around his eyes.

“I don’t expect to be as great as the queen,” I admitted, “but I hope at least _her_ efforts won’t be in vain. I have yet to train with her, but perhaps my skills will improve...with the right mentor, of course.”

From my peripheral, I could see Loki go still in his chair.

“Our mother is a master of seidr,” Thor smiled, appreciating the compliments to his mother. “Loki is only as good as he is due to her mentorship.”

Thor glanced over to his brother, but I drew his attention back to me with a well-placed hand gently laid on his rather intimidating bicep. His dark blue eyes returned to mine, and I gave a small smile, placing my hand back in my lap.

“Did your mother not train you as well?”

That earned another merry laugh from the golden-headed god.

“I have little need for witchery,” he said dismissively as though it were not only unappealing but inconsequential. “I am better with fists and my hammer in hand.”

It did not go unnoticed when Thor’s muscles rippled as he preened. It was actually difficult not to notice.

“I see,” I said with a smile, giving him a genuinely impressed look. If he could push around Loki, I had no doubt of his strength.

Leaning a bit closer, Thor held out his beefy arm to me, his muscles tightened in a heightened display.

“Have a feel, Lady Rune, and tell me if I should need anything more than this,” he teased, a bit of a roguish lilt to his tone, which had me blushing slightly.

“Was there reason for you coming here, brother?” Loki cut in with a touch of waspishness. “A library is not precisely your style.”

Thor only winked at me before turning his attention back to his brother, unaffected by Loki’s ire.

“Father has summoned us to a council meeting.”

Loki stood abruptly and Thor followed suit with me the last to join. However, Loki gave me a sharp look.

“You,” he said, “will remain here.”

From what seemed like nowhere, he produced another thick volume and pushed it into my hands.

“I will be curious to see if anything has managed to improve upon my return, _girl_ ,” his voice laced with a threat, at least to my ears. My irritation flared bright enough in my chest to return his threat with a glare.

“Don’t be too hard on her, brother,” chuckled Thor as he threw his arm around Loki’s shoulders, steering him away from me. Glancing back to give me a bright smile as they left, he added, “Best of luck, Lady Rune.”

~ ~ ~ 

Shortly after I was left to my own devices, a kitchen servant arrived with a tray. Apparently, Loki had made sure that I would be fed in his absence, which softened my ire towards him a bit. I tried to engage the young woman in some conversation, secretly curious about how the kitchens were getting along without me, but she had little to say and bowed her head to me before leaving. The gesture seemed to reinforce the invisible wall I imagined that separated who I had been--a servant--to who I was now--a seidr apprentice to the prince and queen. That longing ache to be back in the kitchens and among Eir, Inger, and Kåre throbbed in my chest again.

Eventually, I began picking at the food while trying my best to study the text my disappointed mentor had left behind. The book appeared to focus on a particular branch of seidr magic, one that involved theoretical plausibilities and discussions on dimensional seidr drawing. The theories were challenging enough, trying to wrap my head around multi-dimensional magic, but the illustrations of the hand gestures and finger movements that needed to accompany the theoretical applications were a whole other hurdle. By the time the sun had dipped to the other side of the palace, throwing the library into milder, diffused light, my fingers and wrists were aching from the repetition of trying to master some of the gestures.

Late in the day, I slammed the book close, even the most simple-looking illustration resulting in nothing. I had been trying to conjure what was described as a shield of sorts, the hand movements a simple flattening of one palm on the back of the other, then pulling away from one another into fists. Nothing happened yet again, and I stamped my foot in frustration.

 _Who would have time to go through the trouble of these while in battle?_ I thought petulantly. I knew I was only frustrated at my lack of improvement, Loki’s words niggling at the back of my mind. _Is he really disappointed with me?_

Giving a heavy sigh, I flipped the book back open, returning to the illustration for the shield. Cracking my fingers and shaking my hands to loosen their achiness, I began again. It only took another handful of attempts with no results to put me back into a bad mood, however, swearing under my breath.

“The fiery girl has a fiery mouth.” 

Startled, I looked in the direction of the deep voice. Thor was leaning against a bookshelf at the end of one row. He had quietly snuck up on me at some point, the stealth a bit disconcerting.

“Oh. Sorry about that,” I apologized, closing the book in my lap.

I gave Thor a genuine smile, my mood lightening just being around him. My heart seemed to stop; his face seemed to slide into a frown before he returned my smile with a bright one of his own. The thumping continued.

“Your tenacity is admirable, Lady Rune,” he said with a smiling nod at my hands. The dull ache of my invisible bruises had diminished next to the burning of my joints. I had unconsciously been rubbing my hands together, working at the sore points with my thumbs and forefingers, alternating between hands.

“I like to think it’s helping,” I said unconvincingly, “that the pain and frustration matters.”

He took a few steps over to me and reached out to take my hands in his, pulling me up from my seat on the lounge. The heavy book thudded on the floor. Reflexively, I pulled away, bending down to pick it up, but he didn’t let them escape his grasp. When I winced slightly at the pinch of his large thumbs against my tender palms, he released his hold a bit, a notably gentler massage working along the muscles.

“Oh! Uh...th-thank you,” I said, determinedly pulling my hands out from his.

With a smile, he let one of my hands drop while flipping the other over. I gave him a laugh when he quickly laid a kiss on the back of it as he grinned up at me.

“Don’t let your mother catch you flirting with me. I like her too much to give her a heart attack,” I joked, retrieving my hand and the book, opening it back to where I had left off. I stared at the illustration for the hundredth time. _How does this thing even make sense?_

“What would be wrong with that?” 

Distractedly, I turned to find the sunny god considering me intently, waiting for an answer. 

“What?” 

“My flirting with you. You are a beautiful woman,” he said as he shifted closer, his already deep voice somehow dropping lower, “and I like beautiful women.” 

_Um...what?!_

I took a couple steps away towards the rows of bookshelves, bumping into the leg of the chair Loki had occupied earlier, the book held out in front of me like some sort of barrier. _If you were only smart enough to learn how to conjure a shield!_ I berated myself.

“Ha. Very funny, your grace,” I muttered, not in the mood with these sorts of games after the day I’d had. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to study.” 

I made to pull the book back against my chest, embarrassed I had held it out in front of me like that, at him, but it was inexplicably out of my hands. My balled fists found my hips quite readily as I gave an exasperated look at the now grinning god. I was more than ready to return to Loki’s rooms if it would give me somewhere quiet where I could concentrate. 

Thor had other ideas, apparently, dangling the book above us. 

“I need that, your grace,” I said, presumptively holding out my hand. 

“Are you already spoken for?” he curiously asked, waggling his eyebrows up and down. “Do you have a secret lover, fiery girl?” 

I tried to catch him off guard, lunging out to grab at the book, but it was quickly held higher up, quite out of my reach. Thor laughed a bit and began moving around me, taunting me with the book. 

“Who would I be able to see? I’m under guard every hour of every day,” I made a leap at the book again, following him down one of the rows of massive bookshelves. He gave a small jerk upward just in time to keep my fingers from gripping it. I huffed in irritation.

“That is true,” he said, stopping sudden enough to have me crash into his leather-armored chest. 

“Ouch,” I claimed, rubbing at my cheek that had collided with him. A low chuckle rumbled out of him as he moved around me to walk back the way we had come. 

“Geez,” I griped, still massaging my sore face. “Are you made out of rock or what?” 

Altering his course again, turning to face me, Thor confidently reached out to place his large, warm hand over the offended cheek. 

It was a tender touch. It felt...wrong. 

I took a step back from him, separating us. 

“I’m fine,” I mumbled, taking the opportunity to reach out and snatch the book from his hand. I celebrated internally when it easily came free. 

“If you are not spoken for, then why should I not let my intentions be known?” he said, lowering his voice now that we were hidden away in the more narrow corridor of books. 

“What are you talking about?” I said in an offhand manner, taking a step to the side to get around him, but he leaned his large body to close off my path. “Thor--your grace, let me by.” 

When I tried to get around the other side of him, he made the same move. I gave an audible sigh of frustration before turning on my heel and walking further down the row in hopes of exiting at the other end. I came to an abrupt stop once I reached its dead end. I heard the heavy footfall of Thor as he started making his way to join me, a satisfied smile on his face when I turned to look at him. 

“Going somewhere?” he teased, strolling leisurely towards me. He trailed a finger along the spines of the books, completely unhurried, clearly enjoying himself. His teeth flashed at me.

A creeping sensation traveled up the back of my neck. I reached up and rubbed at it. This was no longer amusing. 

_Maybe I took things too far earlier in front of Loki..._

As Thor kept his meandering pace, growing ever closer, a desperate idea popped into my head. 

“Actually,” I blurted, trying to rein in my nervousness by clearing my throat before continuing, “there is someone, your grace.” 

Thor’s steps stopped immediately and his hand fell to his side. His eyes assessed me shrewdly as he asked, “Who?” 

“He works here in the palace,” I said vaguely, trying to act like I was keeping a secret. 

_But you are keeping a secret_ , reminded that irritating voice. 

He stood still, his face unreadable. After a moment, he proceeded his stroll in my direction. I began retreating in turn. 

“As you said, who could you see while under guard,” he reasoned, calling my bluff. 

“A guard!” I offered, careful not to suggest it was Kåre if this somehow got back to him. 

But Thor didn’t stop his advancement. 

“I hear that pup trailing you around has been seen courting the young healer as of late,” he proclaimed as though he had read my thoughts. 

_Damn_. My lie was easily unraveling. 

“Your only other prospect...but no,” he pondered aloud. “You could not possibly prefer my brother.” 

I felt my stomach shoot down into my shoes and my face heat up at his words. Luckily, Thor either didn’t notice or didn’t care, smoothly wrapping a hand around my waist and pulling me up against him. The air left my lungs from the sudden movement, but I quickly regained my faculties and began pushing at his chest, trying to detach him from me. I only succeeded in his other hand joining the first to hold me against him. 

“How about a kiss, fiery girl?” he said, a playful grin on his face as I continued to struggle. 

“I do! Like him,” I exclaimed, mortified but desperate to stop him, still pushing ineffectually at his immovable, massive body. 

His hands stilled against me as he looked down at me, trying to read my sincerity. After a moment, he shrugged his shoulders. 

“Still, there is amusement to be had.” 

In a last desperate attempt, I slammed my palm against the back of my other hand and separated them, fisting my hands in an attempt to create a shield. My eyes were squeezed shut in silent prayer that it would finally work.

I began to shake a bit, my eyes popping open only to realize it had been from Thor’s rumbling laugh as he continued to hold me. My hands were empty fists.

“Damn,” I moaned under my breath.

Another laugh shook me before I suddenly became rigid in his hold. One of his hands was sliding down my back while the other found a place at the back of my neck. The fingers of his large hand easily wrapped around it, pinching enough to tilt my head to the side.

“Stop. Your grace, stop,” I began to plea, pushing ineffectually against his armored chest. His lower hand finally landed, taking a strong hold of my ample bottom and pulling me tighter against him. His head lowered toward my exposed neck, and I could both hear and feel him take a deep breath.

“There are no doors in this palace closed to me,” his voice deep and cruel in my ear.

It was too much. I began to thrash uncontrollably, Thor tightening his grip to even smother my pathetic movements. He was suffocating.

Then, like the roar of rushing water from far away, a familiar surge began to course in me. And I recognized it, that power. But I had no ability to channel it to my limbs. Crushed in Thor’s hold, I had no ability to push. So it built, and I felt my body begin to shake in response. 

Thor looked down at me in amusement, no doubt assuming my shaking was from my nerves. But my vibrations began to intensify, sharp movements sending my skin slipping against his. His eyes widened in slight shock and then narrowed in determined concentration as the vibrations had his hands sliding off of me, unable to keep purchase. 

I began to hear rattling all around me. Glancing up, I could see the shelves violently shaking, some books sliding from their tidy homes and dropping to the floor in a staccato fashion.

Thor, evidently unable to halt my vibrating state, removed his arms from around me only to instantly be pushed backward once my hands had the ability to flatten against his chest. He only stumbled one step, however, an unimpressive distance compared to what I had achieved with Loki. He didn’t even appear surprised.

The surge was quickly snuffed out, and everything went quiet and still once again.

My mind was of two places. On the one hand, I had done it. I had used my seidr. But on the other hand, I hadn’t had much control, only a little at the end. 

_But still…I had been able to summon it, didn’t I? Or did it just burst out again?_

Thor had a smile on his face again, but this time, it didn’t look right. It wasn’t playful or amused, no humor touching at his eyes. Instead, it looked...smug.

“What a good pet.” 

Though the words were executed in Thor’s bass, they were not his words.

“ _Loki!_ ” I hissed at him with fury, only to see his eyes narrow, a warning in them. I folded my arms across my chest out of irritation but still corrected myself through gritted teeth, “Your grace.”

“Quite an entertaining display, pet,” he grinned, amusement over the whole incident returning to him.

Now that the initial shock was wearing away, I found myself not really surprised; after all. I couldn’t say this sort of game would be wholly unexpected from the trickster god. I felt more angry with myself for falling for it. Something hadn’t felt right from the moment I saw him, but I hadn’t put two-and-two together.

“I’m happy to amuse,” I growled at him.

“My brother would have certainly been amused,” he said teasingly, moving a little closer, adding with a gesture to his borrowed appearance. “All of this, only to be rejected by a mortal.”

“Well, that would be something both of you could commiserate over,” I said venomously, turning on my heel to stalk away, leaving the debris of my outburst behind me.

I didn’t get far before I felt two strong arms circle around me, large hands splaying across my belly. I didn’t fight it but just stopped and stood limply. My fight had burned out of me. I was so very tired.

“You said you wouldn’t touch me until I asked,” I dully reminded him, not that it mattered.

He gave a low hum from the back of his throat and raised his hands in front of the both of us, asking, “Whose hands are these?”, before lowering them back onto me.

“That’s cheating,” I mumbled.

“I always play to win,” he said darkly, pulling me more snuggly back against his broad body. It felt strange. It was Loki, but it wasn’t. I grabbed at his arms and half-heartedly pushed at them.

“You gave me your hand earlier,” he then reminded me, his hushed tones warm in my ear, making me still against him. “Willingly.”

I shivered at the memory.

“I...I don’t know why--”

He had whipped me around too quickly, my head spinning at the blur of books and shelves. I felt a hand beneath my chin, pulling my face up to look into the dark blue eyes of Thor but with the intensity of Loki behind them.

“That,” he enunciated, “is a lie.”

I said nothing, staring stubbornly up into the oddly serious face of Thor. I could see the frustration building behind his willful stare back at me. His patience was wearing thin. And I was feeling too tired to fight. In fact, my knees had momentarily become fatigued and would have sent me to the ground had Loki not reached out to catch me in time. One strong arm of Thor propped me against him as he grabbed at the tiny bottle that lay nestled against my breast.

Surprisingly efficient in his movements, he uncorked the bottle with his teeth as he held the delicate glass, his forefinger pressed against the opening as he quickly tipped it to retrieve a drop of the liquid onto his finger. He then recorked the bottle and let it drop back to my chest. There wasn’t much I could do but watch, my arms having grown too heavy to be useful.

I opened my mouth helpfully, my eye on the pearly drop balanced on the pad of his finger. But it moved away from me and onto the tip of Thor’s tongue, a look of mischief the only warning I had to act in time.

“No, not you,” I said, tilting my head away from him when he dipped towards my mouth, “I want Loki.”

It sounded odd, knowing that he _was_ Loki, but the thought had seemed more visceral than rational, my senses taking over. I wanted to feel Loki’s lean, strong body, his gloriously terrifying hands, his icy eyes looking back at me. 

Still gently holding the drop of tonic on his tongue, somehow his mouth widened into a grin, and a rolling effect starting from his mouth and moving out to every part of his body gradually revealed his pale skin and frosty gaze contrasted against his dark hair and leathers. His lean body became familiar against mine. He seemed even more shockingly beautiful to take in when the transformation was so jarringly different from the golden tones of Thor. I sighed with satisfaction. 

His hands gripped more tightly at me, possessively. Tilting my chin once again, he plunged his tongue into my waiting mouth, and I reveled in the claiming. The same humming sensation I had felt the first time I used the tonic buzzed through me once again. Coupled with the strong warmth of Loki surrounding me, he had me moaning into his now hungry mouth.

When he pulled away, my lips chased after him, my seidr fatigue now abated. My body was humming with something else, and I grabbed at the lapel of his leather jacket, attempting to keep myself plastered to him.

My head was harshly yanked back, the fingers of one of Loki’s hands having tangled themselves into the gathered braid at the nape of my neck. His mouth was open in a wide, wild smile that had me recalling the look of madness he had after the first time I had used my seidr to remove him from me. It had me stilling as I watched him closely.

“Only for me then,” he grunted in an assertive tone.

His dark head bent down to quickly taste the crook of my neck with his warm tongue before his lips joined in. My breath caught in my throat, my fingers desperately pulling at his coat. My knees felt weak again but for a different reason. Reflexively, my head bent to give him better access, eliciting a pleased, “Good pet,” from his busy mouth as it left soft kisses along the sensitive area just above the collarbone. 

And for once, the nickname didn’t bother me. Quite the opposite, actually, as I slid my hands inside his jacket to run over his chest.

They were almost instantly ripped away and pinned behind my back by one of his strong hands, the ache of the invisible bruises eliciting a wince. He had cursed under his breath, breathing heavily as he looked down at me. I kept trying to pull my hands free, trying to return them to his body. The urge to touch him was my only driving thought.

He watched as I squirmed, his breathing beginning to calm a bit now that I was restrained. His other hand came up to gently brush back the loose strands of hair from my face. The gesture was soft, gentle. I stopped squirming and just let him hold me in that moment.

“We shall not be spending another night as the last,” he spoke quietly but with firmness. “Not even the heavens can help you now, pet.”


	12. Ch. 12 - Landfall

The walk back to Loki’s rooms was a bit of a blur. He had set a quick pace, and his long legs were unforgiving of my shorter ones. At first I managed to keep at his side as he steered me by the elbow out of the library. But soon, he was nearly dragging me along. At one point when my harried foot caught the lip of one of the stone steps that took us into the royal family’s area of the palace, Loki stopped for only a brief few seconds to look me up and down. 

“Need I carry you?” his words sounding more threatening than offering assistance.

I envisioned myself secured in Loki’s arms, carried off to his rooms like a bride or worse, a spoil of war. The thought had me shaking my head in mute but avid rejection. When he didn’t stalk off immediately, seeming to consider doing it despite my wishes, my body leaned slightly away from him. I wasn’t sure if he had noticed or he merely changed his mind, pulling me along the stairs by the elbow once again, his grip like a vice.

“No interruptions!” he barked as we slipped into the dark corridor. I only saw the briefest side glance from the guard as I passed him in tow of his prince, momentarily grateful it was so quick. I could feel my face blushing profusely. I could only imagine what he thought of the sight.

We hadn’t seen anyone else along the way, and for the first time, a feeling of relief engulfed me at the dark interior of Loki’s ominous corridor. I wasn’t sure what I would have said to the worried looks of Inger, Kåre, or Eir had they made an appearance. I glanced up at Loki, his face singularly focused, unsmiling, eyes set resolutely ahead as I tripped alongside him.

 _They’d think he was off to murder me_ , I thought wryly, a dry laugh the only additional sound to our footsteps.

As we came around the corner into what I had just that morning aptly named the rainbow corridor, the last light of the day painting everything in dappled colors, I was whipped around quite abruptly.

“Is this amusing to you, pet?” he asked as I stared up at him. He had relinquished my arm and began walking forward, forcing me to mirror him in retreat, just enough to keep him from running into me.

“You looked so...serious,” I tried explaining without giving away too much of my thoughts.

“But I am,” he corrected as he continued herding me to his rooms. Patches of pale pink and periwinkle blue slid over his pale face, his eyes flashing lavender at times. He looked like a fairy of sorts, a surreal creature from another world.

 _Well, he is,_ I reminded myself. 

As though experiencing it for the first time, Loki’s distinctly otherworldliness came glaringly to the forefront of my mind. His beauty, his strength, his power, his royal status, his near immortality… The eyes behind all of that were following my movements, my breath hitching as I misstepped.

Loki had moved to catch me, but I had pulled away at the last second. It had been the flash of his teeth set in an eerie grin that had me now genuinely retreating. His previously serious demeanor didn’t seem as humorous now.

“You seem flustered, my pet. Here,” he said with that same terrifying grin as he offered an upturned hand to me, “allow me to assist you.”

 _Maybe more like an evil fairy_ , I warned myself, continuing to retreat with a shake of my head at the dangerous offer. _Why does he have to be so intimidating about it?_

Though I couldn’t hear a peep from her, it felt like that other voice was riveted, watching from the dark shadows in my mind. 

“Did you imagine this going another way in that mortal mind of yours?” he asked, the echoing sound of his measured steps menacing. “Were you expecting to be wooed?”

Though his words dripped with derision, an agonizingly low burn was stirring in my center. I didn’t know what to expect from Loki, what it would mean if I accepted him. I hadn’t allowed myself the fantasy. I quickly began feeling wholly unprepared.

“Do you imagine soft caresses, pet?” he continued but in a more honeyed voice. 

Coils of anticipation began to wind my muscles tighter. I could feel my steps becoming more unsure as they kept their retreat along the corridor, leaving behind the colorful light.

I came to a jarring halt as my back found the door to his rooms, but Loki did not. His body closed all but the thinnest space between us, the lack of contact quickly becoming of high concern to me. It felt like that tiny barrier of emptiness was charged, an energy buzzing there as he gazed down at my face, roaming until he settled around my mouth.

“Do you expect soft kisses of affection?”

I didn’t see him move, but the backs of his fingers stroked along my left cheek, feather light. My eyes closed as I gave a slight shiver.

 _That sounds nice_ , I thought warmly, lost in a moment of contentment.

When he leaned down, his face alongside mine, the smell of him filled the air. I breathed him in deeply.

“Do you think you have earned that?”

All the warm, fuzzy feelings evaporated at his words. It wouldn’t have surprised me had his breath froze in the air; the blood certainly froze in my veins.

Loki masterfully pushed the door open behind me, and I fell back into the sitting room, catching myself only after a few stumbled steps. My menace stepped unhurriedly in after me, the door closing to seal us away from any other eyes or ears.

“You see,” he said calmly, observing my nervous fidgeting, “I have other plans.”

“Other...plans…,” I muttered distractedly. 

My sight had become fixed on his hands as they pulled at his coat. He laid it carefully folded over the back of my once sitting chair. His movements were slow, controlled, and completely unnecessary considering what I had witnessed of his ability to change in and out of clothes with seidr. _He did this the night before when you nearly fell into the wardrobe_ , the realization sending warning bells sounding in my head at every precise, intentional shift in his body.

“Quite, pet.”

He then turned his blue eyes on me, cold, unsympathetic, calculating. My heartbeat had found a home somewhere in my throat. Those same eyes quickly fell to my chest where I only then realized I had been unconsciously worrying at the little tonic. His eyes flashed to mine for the briefest moment. In a desperate attempt to put distance between me and the intent I read there, I turned on my heel. 

But I hadn’t been quick enough, not for a god. I heard the snap before feeling the mild burning on the back of my neck where the leather thong had given way.

A slight huff of success left Loki’s parted lips as the bottle swung like a pendulum beneath his outstretched fist. A pleased smile lit his eyes, a glint of orange light from the setting sun. He almost looked possessed.

“Nooo...” I moaned with genuine regret, one of my hands feeling at the empty space between my breasts. However, my more tamed disappointment was almost immediately surpassed. 

“ _No!_ ” I cried disbelievingly as Loki dropped and promptly smashed the little bottle beneath his boot, the sound of grinding glass beneath his heel grating in my ears.

“Ah, what a pity,” he said without an ounce of remorse. “I suppose you shall need to control yourself this evening.”

Internally cursing at my slow human reflexes, I felt the rising concern for what Loki had planned that required controlling my seidr. Whatever it was certainly wouldn’t be to my benefit, and after the day’s events, I felt little confidence that I was going to succeed.

Just as leisurely as before, he continued in my direction, and I backed away, alertly watching for any quick movement or glance. I had fisted my hands in my skirts, lifting slightly to keep from tripping should I have the need to run.

Apparently, that was amusing enough to pull a half-hearted chuckle from the god. His laugh did nothing to lighten the tense mood. It only made me more on edge.

“I have never witnessed such obstinate refusal to acknowledge one’s situation,” his tone light and conversational. “No matter the odds, you cling to hope that you have a chance.”

I noted my steps getting much smaller as I passed across the threshold to his bedroom. He had left the doors open when we had exited earlier that morning. 

“You can call it the human spirit,” I said with a touch of indignant pride, remembering what Eir told me about Asgardians admiring the spirit of the humans they once met, possibly my very ancestors.

“Spirit? Stubbornness? It is all one and the same,” he said with a shrug as his wide arms closed the doors behind him. “Bad habits that need breaking.”

 _Apparently, Loki’s not an admirer_ , I thought despondently.

Not caring for the implications of his words, I continued my retreat until I felt a solid, flat surface pressed between my shoulder blades. I glanced back to see the bed over my left shoulder.

Moving with a bit of that dizzying speed he seemed to have at times, he closed the empty space between us and reached out one hand to curl around the back of my neck, stilling my nerves into docile subservience as I did nothing but blink slowly at him. Though my mind was a tumult of warnings and encouragements to flee, when his thumb gently stroked my ear, I inadvertently leaned into the touch. 

_Could you be anymore compliant to your own doom?_ I tried chastising myself, that familiar flush of heat across my face making an appearance.

“There she is.” 

His hands moved, each softly trailing down my arms until his fingers wrapped delicately around my wrists. His touch was surprisingly considerate as I merely stared up at him, my eyes drifting across the line of his cheekbone, noting the delicate black lashes around his eyes, curiously considering the mysterious way his lips curled at the ends, perpetually entertained by something. 

“Pet,” those lips spoke softly, breaking into my mute appreciation. I blinked and returned to admire his eyes. They had become like two glacier pools, still on the surface with unknown things swimming beneath in the darker depths.

Distracted from those pools, I felt Loki’s hands trailing back up my arms, just as slight of touch as before, sending a small chill running through me. To my immediate dismay, he withdrew a step from me. My body’s immediate response to close the gap, so I took a step towards him…

...and was jarringly hindered by my two arms strapped to the bedpost at my back.

I tugged one hand forward just to feel the other pulled further behind the post. He had somehow tied my wrists together with something soft enough for me not to notice. My wrists were still bruised under the illusioned skin, so I twisted gently in my supple restraints. 

_Let me guess. Leather._

I looked at Loki, confused and growing more and more alarmed as his enjoyment over my reactions became more readily noticeable. Something beneath those calm pools in his eyes had surfaced. And it wanted to play.

“You would have benefited being strapped down last night,” he informed me. “I thought a fire had started in the night somehow.”

The comment confused me only momentarily as he proceeded to pull his tunic along his long torso and over his head, his bared upper body distracting my eyes and any thoughts of asking Loki to clarify. My eyes darted around his form, trying to create a mental picture to savor later. The planes and dips in his body, around a muscle, along a rib, over a dusky nipple, following down a vein, all were more appealing than whatever was coming from his lips.

 _I could stare at him all day_ , I admitted as I refused to look away. _Better enjoy what you can while you can._

“...should have taken you then, little temptress.”

Catching only the last of his sentence, I was drawn out of my silent admiration of the sight before me when one of his hands seemed to draw a rather sizable dagger from the air. I looked at him with panic, a bit shocked at the dastardly smirk he wore. Nonchalantly, he flipped the blade into the air, catching it with ease though his eyes were busy running up and down my body. 

My original fear of Loki, the nightmares of him chasing me around the palace with his threatening knives, had me pressing fearfully against the bedpost, my wrists beginning to pull against the restraints in earnest, damn the soreness from my hidden bruises.

“Wha…,” I choked, having to clear my throat when its dryness kept the words from being clear, “What are you going to do?”

The corners of his mouth pulled back in mild entertainment at my question. He moved to close the space between us again, and this time when I pressed back, I slightly turned my face away as his intimidating frame loomed, the flat of his blade tapping sickeningly against what sounded like his thigh. I couldn’t see for sure. He leaned his mouth down to one of my now very alert ears, his voice dropping intimately low.

“I am going to convince you,” he explained as I felt a finger hook under the collar of my woolen frock, drawing my eyes to look at him, “to request something of me.”

A slight tearing sound filled the brief silence after his words, and I was confused before I noticed the slight tug against the fabric around my neck accompanied by a slightly longer tearing sound. I glanced down and caught the sharp flash of Loki’s dagger as he handled it between our bodies. His eyes observed his swift work. He had used the blade to pierce the thick fabric several inches below the neckline, running the blade up and through the collar.

Returning feelings of fear at Loki’s knife skills overwhelmed me, my body responding in panicked breathing as I fruitlessly pushed against the bedpost, my wrists pulling again in vain. I even raised up on my toes, my instincts trying to drive me away from the incredibly sharp danger balanced securely in Loki’s hand.

“I would advise against too much movement, pet,” he warned in a light tone. “It would be a shame if you were hurt.”

His free hand reached up to my right shoulder, pulling the fabric up and away from my skin before deftly sliding the dagger between my vulnerable shoulder and the dress. The passing of the blade near enough to my neck had my preservatory nerves settling over me, a rigid stillness taking over my muscles, freezing me out of fear. With a movement that seemed too little for the amplified sound of the material splitting finely down the length of the blade, I felt the ruined shoulder fall away, revealing my bare skin except for the strap of my bra.

My mind was a mess of incoherent feeling and reaction, my body unable to do more than struggle at my bonds in the brief interval as he moved to the other shoulder, stilling again when he drew the blade near. With another surprisingly loud tear filling the otherwise silent room, I felt the soft material of the front of my dress roll forward to lie over my breasts, just the beginnings of their swells now evident. My still intact sleeves kept the dress from falling off of me completely; nonetheless, Loki’s eyes drew across the skin he could see. I noticed his gaze dart to my left shoulder, no doubt eyeing the bruise of his thumb that still remained from the other morning, but his gaze didn’t linger too long in one place.

I could feel my skin warming wherever he looked, no doubt a growing flush of red coloring my chest, running up my neck and into my face. Loki didn’t smile at the blush this time, however. He raised his free hand to my exposed chest, hovering just above my skin. 

“My very own eternal flame,” I heard him murmur, his voice low and appreciative.

The ghost of him had me arching toward his hand to gain something tangible, but his hand played a perfect dance, keeping just out of reach.

He looked at me, a mischievous grin playing at his lips again.

“Do you want something, pet?”

 _What had he said about convincing me to ask him something?_ I only now wondered as he toyed with me. _What does he want me to ask?_

I searched Loki’s eyes for some sort of hint, but he lowered them to move in close, his mouth finding its way near my throat. A thrill of fear had me stilling quickly. His teeth that close somehow felt more threatening than the knife he still held. But in a cascade of warm breath at my pulse, that shock of fear lazily curled low in my belly.

“I have quite the urge to taste you,” his voice clear in my ear. His warm breath had flowed over my skin once again, making me strain at my restraints. The urge to touch him compelled my arms despite the futility of it all. “This morning’s tease was too brief on my tongue.”

Remembering the incident in the bath, his wicked tongue drawn along the inside of my thigh, I let out a small exhale as I rolled my head back. In response, I heard a low chuckle somewhere deep in his chest.

“Want something, my pet?” Though softly asked, amusement was evident in his voice, but there hinted something else. There was a tightness to it.

I raised my head to look at Loki. He was still, all but for his eyes, which had that odd glow to them. He watched me expectantly.

 _Tell him whatever he wants_ , whined that other voice. _Just touch us!_

“Touch me,” the corrected words slipped from my mouth in a hushed tone. 

I watched his face carefully, but it was his body that revealed more as a tenseness in his stance seemed to ease out of him. He straightened to his full height, his fingers reaching out to fondle the torn edges of the dress where he had made the initial cut. His seidr knife seemed to have disappeared as mysteriously as it had arrived.

“Ask me sweetly, Rúna.”

The fitting feeling of my name coming from his lips had me leaning towards him, and this time, he didn’t step back. I pressed what little I could against him, my softness molding to his solid self. Though I wanted nothing more than to feel his skin on mine, the remnants of my dress still offered a barrier.

“Please, your grace,” I asked boldly, my body’s craving muting out any idea of being ashamed of my desire. “Touch me, please. I need you--”

My words had been cut short by the sudden, fluid movement of Loki’s hands grasping the tatters of my dress and splitting the remainder of it down the middle. The violent sound of ripping fabric overshadowed my small squeak of surprise.

Loki took his time in admiring his work, and when he eyed my bra--one of Fulla’s creations--something led him to grin again in amusement. He hooked a forefinger under the material between my breasts.

“Do not move,” he warned in another casual tone before I felt the cool blade appear along my skin, making its way between my breasts under the thin fabric. I held my breath, and with a quick flick of his wrist, he rent the material in half.

My breasts softly fell to lay along my rib cage as Loki’s hands peeled back the ruined bra. His elongated stare had me shifting uncomfortably before he eventually reached out with one hand and cupped one of my breasts. The touch had me breathing a sigh of relief as I leaned into his touch. When he ran a thumb over the budding nipple, I took in a quick breath. His eyes returned to mine, watching me as he agonizingly took his time playing with the sensitive skin. My breathing picked up its pace as I felt my legs squeezing together in response when his second hand began the same ministrations to the other breast. 

I leant my head back against the bedpost, his touch feeling like the only thing that mattered, the only good in the world. Then, a sharp twist at one of the hardened nipples had me sucking in air between my teeth while my back arched me further into his attentive hands.

Loki was watching me with interest, his touch becoming less gentle and more adamant in grasping at the soft flesh.

“How about a taste?” he asked before dipping his head down and deftly taking one hardened nipple into his mouth.

“Oh,” I quietly exclaimed at the warm, wet feel of his lips and tongue. 

But I was soon pulled into a haze of pleasure as that devilish tongue began flicking over the sensitive bud, eliciting gentle sighs from me. When his teeth joined in, holding the hard bud between them as his tongue mercilessly lashed at the stiff peak, I felt my body pull hard at the restraints to get closer to him. I let out a whine of frustration.

“Good pet,” he muttered against my heated skin as he let go of the assaulted nipple and turned to place a kiss against the inside of the other breast that he was lightly stroking.

He trailed the tip of his nose up the center of my chest, his warm breath leaving a minor burn in its wake. Then, there was nothing of him as he took a towering position over me, that light burning bright in his eyes. He watched my reactions as one of his hands returned, softly palming just below my breasts before drifting down, his fingers slipping beneath the waist of my undergarment and tickling along my lower belly. I began to squirm, my face growing hot again as his fingertips played just above my soft thatch of hair.

“Please,” I began to whine as he seemed more interested in tormenting me, building that warm pooling low in my belly.

His playful fingers kept their idle stance as he gave a smirk.

“Begging suits you, my pet,” he commented satisfactorily.

Without any warning, his knee wedged itself between my legs, opening my stance and settling me atop his thigh. Yet I was infinitely more preoccupied by the prominent press of him along my hip. I thoughtlessly pulled against my unforgiving restraints, the desire to reach out and touch him my only concern. Thankfully, Loki pressed me more harshly into the unforgiving wood at my back, hard and needy. 

_He was being sincere_ , I briefly acknowledged, answering my question from the previous evening. 

However, I became distracted once again at his creeping fingers that finally dipped further, curling to cup around my sex, a barrier between me and his steadying thigh. I stilled at the touch.

His sight set on observing my face, his fingers slowly opened me, another digit seeking that sensitive bundle of nerves and beginning slow circles. My head fell back against the bedpost as I closed my eyes at the glorious sensations. Loki said nothing but continued his attention on that small point of pleasure.

A low moan escaped me when he pushed a long finger purposefully into my entrance, quickly setting a slow but persistent pace. 

“Eager little thing,” came Loki’s low voice in my ear as he pushed a second finger inside. 

My walls gripped around the more substantial intrusion, and I felt Loki grind himself against my hip, his arousal becoming more prominent as he worked to open me. His thumb joined in as it began slow circles around my sensitive nub again. It didn’t take long before I felt my thighs squeezing his own in an incoherent attempt to increase the pressure. His pacing had become maddening, the steady pushing and pulling only enough to build me into a perpetual state of arousal.

Loki didn’t smile at my provoked response but, instead, dipped his mouth down to the side of my neck, pulling the skin between his teeth as he sucked. Mildly painful but equally pleasurable, my body responded as I began to rock back and forth on his hand. A loan groan rumbled from the back of Loki’s throat as both his own grinding increased with the more powerful pumping of his fingers.

For what felt like an innumerable amount of times, I pulled at my bindings again, the pleasure building into a frenzy. I blindly felt back along the bedpost, curling my fingers around the ends of the leather cord that stretched between my captured wrists. It felt like the only thing grounding me, my fingers grasping at the bindings as Loki’s fingers curled inside me, an intensity sweeping through my center. I lent forward, my face finding a home along his accessible neck, the scent of him overwhelming. I began to pant against him until I felt his free hand take hold at the back of my head.

“Let me hear you cry, mortal,” he demanded as he gave what was becoming a familiar pull at my hair, my face snapping up to look into his heady gaze.

His thumb picked up its pace, sharp electrical pulses firing through me with each stroke as his diligent fingers pulled the orgasm from me. My body seized in the ecstacy, the sudden burst of exquisite pleasure tearing through my nerves, drawing a long moan from somewhere deep. Loki quickly smothered my mouth with his own, plunging his tongue in as though he wanted to taste the sound he had pulled from me. All I could do was shudder against him as waves coursed through me. His fingers continued to work me through the orgasm, his own heated arousal pressed firm against me. I eventually sagged in relief, resting myself atop his conveniently placed thigh, as he broke the consuming kiss.

My entire body buzzed with a fuzzy feeling, my mind a barren wasteland for the moment. When he gently retrieved his hand from between my legs, I watched, slightly dazed but still riveted to him, as he raised his fingers to his curious mouth. Somehow, despite everything else he had just wrought from me, he still managed to draw out a blush.

“Spiced mead,” he commented, assuring my blush became a sunburn. “I bet a man would die a happy drunk betwixt your thighs, my pet.”

I suddenly felt a slight tug from behind me, and my arms were freed. Before I could think to reach out and finally touch him, I was quickly shunted sideways to the center of the foot of the bed.

“Lie down,” his tone deepening as that sharpness glinted in his blue eyes.

I lowered myself down onto the bed, only to come face to face with his arousal. At some point, he had removed our clothing with seidr, and now I faced his rather intimidating member.

_Oh boy._

My face must have hidden nothing about my apprehension at the sight of him. Loki gave that devilish grin again, and I felt myself slide back into the center of the bed, my limbs taking me away from him in an unconscious act of self preservation.

Not removing his eyes from mine, Loki lowered himself to follow me deeper into the bed, eventually securing a vice like grip behind one of my knees to stop my retreat. He made short work of pushing my legs apart and positioning himself between them. 

When I felt a slight nudge at my entrance, I reached out to grasp at the arm of the hand that held me still at the hip. Loki became a statue, the only evidence that he was alive was the rather heavy rise and fall of his chest. 

He spoke menacingly low, “Restrain your hands, or I will do it for you.”

I let go of him immediately, and he moved again, raising his head to watch me as I complied. I placed my hands a good distance away from my hips, palms down, trying to convince myself to not let them move. 

“Good pet,” he grinned, leaning down to settle himself over me. 

With his hair falling to shadow his face, he had more the look of a devil as his darkened eyes glinted with intent. I gripped at the bed sheet beneath me, which had been fortuitous because it kept my hands grounded at the slow, inexorable entrance of Loki. I gasped at the slightly searing pain as my body tried to accommodate him, twisting the sheets beneath my hands.

I looked up to watch as his grin softened with pleasure as he continued his slow descent. I could feel my body fighting as the overwhelming feeling continued, my breath stopping somewhere in my throat in an attempt to stay quiet. Loki’s gaze narrowed slightly before his hips took a swift plunge, burying himself with a satisfied huff. The air I had trapped was quickly forced from my lungs as I cried out, my fingers clawing at the bed.

Loki smiled pleasantly at the sound.

 _Sadist!_ flashed across my nearly obliterated brain, and I clamped my teeth together to stop from saying it aloud.

“Not even the halls of Valhalla could offer such pleasure,” he groaned as he slowly withdrew only to swiftly return. Another cry escaped me as I was forced to accommodate him, a pleased rumble his immediate response.

“It’s too much. You’re too much,” the words tumbling from my mouth in two quick breaths, shaking my head as I looked at him pleadingly. 

Loki dipped down closer, his lips hovering just over mine. His body was still, keeping me pinned beneath him as he paused to observe my panting state. I was grateful for the momentary reprieve and tried letting my body relax around him though the prospect seemed improbable.

Balancing himself on one arm, he reached down with the other to graze his rough thumb over one of my nipples, coaxing it to attention. The mild sensation was pleasant but only a tease. I began to squirm, slightly arching towards his hand as he tormented the sensitive skin.

I let out a quiet cry when he gave a sudden pinch, my walls contracting painfully around him.

“You were made for this,” he said quietly, giving another harsh twist, this time his eyes shutting slowly at my body’s response. “You were made for me.”

With no preamble, he pulled out and plunged in again, but to my surprise, I gave a low moan. Loki stifled it quick enough with his mouth. In little time, he set a steady pace, and I had to break from his lips to allow for the rapid, shallow breaths my lungs had deemed necessary. The searing pain had dulled and blossomed into an overwhelming friction; every dragging pull was a satisfying stretch followed by a gratifying thrust to bring that dull ache again. 

No sooner had I acclimated to his rhythm, Loki changed the tempo. His hips began to snap harshly, a clearly controlled power behind it as he watched my body jolt beneath him. I could only react with tiny, grunted breaths as that eerie fire seemed to glow in the backs of his eyes. And then his pace shifted again, this time a viciously unrelenting one. I felt like brittle wood to the battering ram between my legs, about to splinter any second. My fingers had become numb at their harsh grasp on the sheets, and somewhere near my center, I felt the small flashes of my seidr. The errant thought to stop Loki with it was fleeting as I looked up at his intense gaze, his still carefully controlled manner, the evidence that he was using little of his strength or power obvious.

 _You wouldn’t have a chance_.

Closing my eyes tightly, I gritted my teeth, prepared to bare the barrage as I smothered my own pitiful power inside me. My whole body stilled suddenly beneath Loki as I heard him give a half-laugh in mild amusement. I peeked up at him.

“Shall we see what you are willing to endure, my pet?”

One of my legs was quickly hiked up by Loki’s unforgiving grip, angling my hips in a slightly new position. But it made all the difference. It only took the first few thrusts to garner a strangled cry from me, Loki blissfully closing his eyes.

“You make the most beautiful sounds, pet,” he grunted as he did his best to elicit more.

Unthinkingly, my hands left the bed and found their way to Loki’s back. I dug my nails in as hard as I could, desperate to cling to something more substantial than the now worse-for-wear bedding.

It felt as though my leg was released at the same time as my hands were pressed into the pillow above my head. Loki’s snarling face was close to mine, his teeth bared, a slight vibration coming from his tensed body. Despite his reaction, my breathing began to slow, now that I could catch it. My body was humming in the stillness as I thought how he looked similar to that early morning in his rooms, where he seemed to be going mad. His eyes were restless, darting about my face, always returning to my eyes before searching elsewhere for something. I had an urge to reach out and touch him despite the decidedly stupid decision that would have been had I any use of my hands. My aching wrists were currently earning new bruises under Loki’s unforgiving grip.

It took only a few moments before those cooling eyes narrowed ever so slightly as they more calmly settled on my own. He moved in me, but it was altered yet again, a rolling of the hips. My breaths became heavy as my body moved in time with his, some primitive instinct taking over. I noted Loki’s breathing became slightly labored as well. The idea that I was finally cracking his self control made me arch into him, a teasing flame burning through me. 

A sudden hand was on my hip, pressing hard enough to still me and get a slight gasp of pain. _That’ll be another bruise._ His other hand curled itself tightly into my hair. I took the opportunity of his distracted hands to reach for Loki, but my arms remained above my head, the remnants of the leather thong still dangling from each wrist securing me to something. 

That stoney hand kept me from moving away as he ground his pelvis against the still overly sensitive bundle of nerves, which screamed at the rough treatment. A low hiss escaped my lips as I tried to buck against him, erratically attempting to throw him off. 

But Loki’s hold was doing exactly what he had intended. I couldn’t move away from his assault, each rolling of his hips sending sharp pulses to that core where my seidr hid. The energy of it began to bloom and radiate in a tight ball somewhere in the center of me, my body beginning to vibrate in small irregular waves.

My hair was pulled harshly, and Loki lowered himself to give me a quiet warning.

“Do you wish to make yourself truly at my mercy, then?”

At the next roll of his hips, I let out a defeated cry before turning to bite down on his readily available forearm, an attempt to silence myself. Loki grunted as his hips juttered slightly. I thought I heard him swear under his breath, but little comprehension was available in the incoherent noise that was my mind.

The sharp sparks were soon accompanied by deliciously warm licks of flame at each glorious pump of his hips. As I pulled at my restraints again, that need to touch him overwhelming as the wave of pleasure grew, my stifled cries turned to panting moans.

“Good, my pet. Let me hear you,” his voice rough in my ear before a sudden sharp pain erupted from the soft flesh above my shoulder as Loki returned my earlier bite.

My body’s response was immediate and severe. I felt my body seize, my back arching up to him. My brain went blank, a silent awe as electricity burned through every nerve in my body. Letting out a throaty groan, my abused flesh clenched frantically around Loki, my body set on bringing him to his own end.

Somewhere in the distant back of my mind where my conscious self was still aware, I heard Loki smother a groan in my neck as his hips stuttered. He then buried himself securely in me as he met his own release.

Everything was obliterated. The only world I knew included his significant weight on me, the sounds of his slowing breaths, the vague indentations from where I had bit his arm, nearly invisible now as his body already healed any insignificant mark I could ever make on him. On impulse, as my mouth was already so close to his skin, I placed a kiss where my bite mark should have been. 

Loki’s breathing stilled briefly before he began disengaging himself from my hair. Next, cool air filled the space where our bodies had settled against one another, a slight shiver rippling through me. And finally, I winced at the slight sting when he slid out from between my legs.

I watched as he reached up to release my wrists, the intense desire to reach out and touch him flaring slightly until a quick movement of my arm had me wincing again at the prominent stiffness in my shoulders. Loki’s face was expressionless, but his eyes darted to the spot I was rubbing in an attempt at relief.

Offering one of his hands to me, which I took without thought yet again that day, he led me to the edge of the bed where he continued to keep my hand as he assisted me up. Adding his other hand to my lower back, he silently led me into the bathing room, still securing my hand until I settled into the warm water, lithely slipping himself in after me. 

I watched him with a slight feeling of disconnect, as though he were manipulating my body without me in it. He told me to open my legs; I did so. He told me to turn my head this way and that; I complied. When his thumb pressed deliberately over where his teeth left their bruising effect, I was finally jerked back into my body as I winced and tried to move away from his indelicate touch.

“Still there, are you?” he asked with a half grin. “I thought perhaps I had broken you, pet. Not quite so easily broken however. Despite your fragile form.”

His hands made a lighter exploration as they continued what I now realized was to check over the damage he had done. Each time he noted another abused portion of flesh, I noted the small flash of that internal glow buried in his otherwise cool gaze. After a moment, his eyes finally returned to mine as his hands dropped beneath the water.

And I hissed at him from between my teeth as he slipped a deft finger into me, the heat of the water scorching my now noticeably sore entrance. I balled my aching fingers into tight fists beneath the water as I fought the urge to reach out and stop him, either with the seidr I felt giving small sparks within me or by grabbing him. I was certain neither response would be desirable to the now smirking god.

“Pleased with yourself, are you?” I ground out between my gritted teeth as he lazily gave a few strokes before removing his offending digit.

“For now.”

He stepped from between my legs and lifted himself out of the bath. He turned and extended his hand in expectation. Though I would have rather remained in the soothing water, I placed my hand in his and let him help me out. As he led me back to the bedroom, the sensation of a dry, warm air blew across my body, the sound of wet footprints turning into muffled steps as we returned to the dark wood of his rooms. He indicated for me to slide into the bed first, quickly moving in after me. I tried moving over more to my assigned side, but it took him little effort to maneuver me back towards him and onto my side, his body curving around my back. When I tried wiggling away a little to give a little space between us, one arm curled over my middle, pulling me rather harshly back into place.

“You have tired me, pet,” he said in my ear.

I was finding the prospect of sleeping with Loki’s warm, naked form pressed against me quite out of the question, but when the lights blinked out and dark shadows filled the room, there wasn’t much I could do but try and relax. The Asgardian sky gradually deepened from plum to navy blue and finally to black as I listened to Loki’s breathing, slow and quiet. His arm remained, a somewhat comforting heaviness, and I soon found my eyes closing.


	13. Ch. 13 - Dancing

The sensation of chilled skin was what woke me just as the sun’s pink rays were coloring the skies outside Loki’s balcony doors. Lying face down, my arms were spread pell-mell above the warm fur that covered the rest of me, the cool morning air that filled the room chilling any foolishly exposed skin. I lifted and turned my head to face the other way, hoping to meet Loki’s sleeping face, but I was alone. 

_Hmm...early riser,_ I thought sleepily, the chill in the air becoming decidedly too cool as I moved to hide myself more securely under the fur.

“Ooo…” I moaned aloud, the sudden aches along my shifting limbs catching me by surprise.

A bit more timidly, I pushed myself up in the bed. Even the weight on my hand had me gasping, a slightly sharp shock running through my palm and up through the wrist that was supporting my efforts. 

_Oh no._

Slowly, I shifted myself to the edge of the bed, tenderly grasping the warm fur around me with my aching fingers as I got unsteadily to my feet. I nearly tripped at the first step, the noticeably sore lower half of my body hindering me from walking in any other fashion than slightly hunched and with small, shuffling steps. 

Taking an interminable amount of time, I eventually managed to transfer myself to the bathing room. Heading directly for the large mirror, I took only the briefest moment to longingly eye the small wisps of steam curling from the surface of the bath water as I teetered past it.

 _You’re next,_ I mentally promised as I approached my reflection.

I slowly opened my arms, proceeding to promptly drop the furs on the cold stone floor when I caught sight of myself.

The bruises along my hips would be easiest to cover, and even the horrendously bruised right side of my neck and shoulder could be kept secret if I wore my hair down.

 _But what am I supposed to do with these?_ I thought desperately as I eyed the horrors that were my wrists. Fresh purplish imprints of Loki’s fingers splotched around the more inflamed rings of skin, carnage from my repeated battles with my restraints.

Turning away from my colorful image, I carefully made my way over to the bath, hoping to at least soothe my aching body. Getting into it was downright torturous, but once I submerged myself up to my neck, I could feel the heat kneading a lot of the stiffness away. Some time later, I was even able to pull myself out of the bath with only a slight wince from my disagreeable lower half.

“Sitting’s going to be a pain,” I bemoaned to the echoing walls as I made my way back to the wardrobe in the other room.

Dressing in my only remaining attire after Loki’s decimation of my work frock, I spent some time in front of the mirror, arranging the dark waves of my hair loosely around my neck and shoulders. Eventually, I left my reflection with a defeated look when there was just no feasible way to hide my wrists in my sleeveless apron dress.

In the time it took to get back to Loki’s bed, I was able to figure out how to walk in a natural manner. It was only achievable at a relaxed pace. _No sudden movements today_ , I warned myself, eventually returning the fur to the bed.

I tried making the bed as best I could, which was no more a success than tugging at the sheets in hopes they’d flatten out and look a little neater. One good attempt to reach across the bed to flatten a slight lump was all it took for me to give up, my body protesting rather painfully. 

A low growl coming from my empty belly followed the pain. Vaguely wondering if Loki had perhaps left his morning tray on the dining table, I intended on checking only to be reminded about the seidr lock when my pull at the door handle did nothing.

I spent a small amount of time debating on whether or not to try my seidr, at first reflexively searching to find that sensation that hid inside me, to stoke my seidr awake if I could. But I almost as quickly decided against it, the memory of the crushed vial sending my hand from the handle to the spot where the tonic used to lay. I could already imagine his less than pleased response if he returned to find me collapsed in the other room.

Turning, I made my way towards the balcony to enjoy the sunrise and wait, hoping Loki would return soon and let me out. I came to a stop, however, as I passed the small sitting area, a noticeable lump sitting on the tiny table in the still darkened corner. Drawing near, I retrieved it from atop the book Loki had given me the other evening-- _The Words of the High One_. He must have moved the book to the more appropriate place than balanced on my shoes each night, but the little bundle was a mystery. I held it up into the light, the little leather pouch making some noises as its contents jostled one another.

I froze at the metallic sounds.

Then, my stiff fingers were fumbling as I hurriedly pulled at the opening at the top, not wanting to believe what was in it until I saw it for myself. 

A small pile of coins was nestled inside.

To my left, I heard the door open and Loki’s booted steps as he returned, but I could only stare at the offending thing being tightly gripped by my sore fingers.

“Awake already, pet?” his tone conversational as I heard the door click close behind him.

The coins disappeared as I calmly cinched the bag, turning my sights on him. The small bag of metal left my hand with as much force as I could muster, and my aim had been accurate, perfectly aligned to have his stupid face stop its progress.

But I hadn’t been quick enough for the reflexes of the god. His hand hovered just before his nose, the leather pouch caught with little evident effort. His blue eyes widened slightly as he observed me, my body shivering from my building rage. His eyes shifted briefly to see what his supernaturally quick hand had caught, and despite the low whooshing filling my ears from my boiling blood, I didn’t miss his next words.

“Was it not enough payment?” he asked, a familiar sneer curling his lip.

“Asshole!” 

I made a direct line to the double-doors behind him, ready to march straight out of the palace once I physically busted the damn things down. 

As I reached out a hand, a sharp pull at my hips had me yelping slightly at the rough treatment, stopping me mid-stride as I passed him. Impossibly iron-like arms wrapped around me, trapping mine at my sides as I spat a few more obscenities at him. One hand of his rested along my rib cage and the other splayed over my belly, pulling me securely back into him.

“No. No!” I hissed and sputtered as I pulled against him, “Get off of me!”

His chin found a home on my shoulder. I could see the smile on his face from the corner of my eye, but it was most notable in his voice as he hushed me while I continued to fight against his solid grip. 

“Only a joke, my pet. In poor taste, perhaps,” his voice amused but placating. “Those are your wages. For your services to the palace thus far.” 

“Oh,” was all I could say as I stilled, my heated outrage going cold within me as a slight heat bloomed across my face in embarrassment.

“The sum is an insult, truly,” he commented as I felt him tuck the bundle into one of my hands. The fact that he cared about my wages at all was a bit surprising. 

“When I would pay dearly to have you warming my bed,” his breath tickling at my ear. 

I would have been irritated at his presumption that he could pay me any amount to be with him if I didn’t already want to be, but his nose had found that sensitive patch of skin just behind my ear; all thought of being offended was blown away by the soft nuzzle.

“A Venus among us,” he muttered as his hands moved slowly over my hips. 

Loki’s word choice drew a scoffing noise from me. 

Harshly, his fingers dug into my hips, gasping in pain, my hands latching onto his to try and pry them off. His hands did not relinquish the bruised skin, but his hold became more considerate after a moment. I softened a bit when his arms wrapped back around me, leaning into his gentler embrace.

“The women of Asgard have fallen heir to a warrior’s life,” he said in the same unimpressed manner he had used in discussing his father. “Their bodies are the biological byproduct of eons of invasion and battle. They are the birthers of the Valkyrie.”

Before my curiosity could ask about the Valkyrie, however, Loki swept my hair back off my shoulder. I knew what he could see, thankful that at least most of the bite mark was hidden by my apron dress.

“You have so much more to offer, pet,” he said as he dipped down to lay a kiss over the tender skin.

Reflexes had me tilting my head to give him better access. One of his hands roamed up my body, taking hold of one of my breasts, giving a hard squeeze as his lips began their efforts to add to the marks along my neck. My breaths became small pants all too quickly, but he stilled when my stomach gave an embarrassingly loud grumble.

“Pet needs to be fed,” he remarked. 

A bit crestfallen as his hands left me, I silently cursed the vocal body part while Loki stepped around and opened the doors to the dining room.

Taking a moment to deposit the bag of coins back on the small table and rearrange my hair back along my neck, I followed Loki to the dining table where a covered tray sat. Loki took his usual seat as he removed the lid, a beautiful plate of various fruits and cheeses beneath it. It was decadent.

At Loki’s gesture, I walked over and swiped a pear, giving him a small smile of thanks. He stared blankly back at me, finally asking, “Are you going to sit?”

“Oh, I’m good,” I said nonchalantly, taking a bite out of the gloriously juicy fruit and wandering slowly away to take a leisurely lap around the table.

As I rounded the other end, I breathed a sigh of relief when I looked back at Loki, preoccupied, picking through the tray. Part of me knew it would be inadvisable to let the devil know how truly sore I was by trying to sit.

Still, I let my eyes admire his features in the morning light, dark as ever, just as lovely. Watching him pop a piece of food into his mouth, cleaning his thumb along with it, I took a slow bite of my pear.

 _Meal and a show_ , I thought pleasantly, my progress slowing as I neared him.

“I am leaving you in the care of my mother’s training while I am away,” he said between bites of a piece of cheese, looking up to catch my gaze. “You will not give me reason to be disappointed when I return.”

The shockingly brief irritation at the last command was quickly overridden by the fact that he was leaving. I was a little disturbed by how much I disliked the news.

“What exactly do you do, as a prince I mean?” I inquired as casually as I could.

“We are to put a stop to two warring provinces,” he said smoothly as though it were a regular occurrence. “Some significant agriculture is at risk of becoming collateral damage at the incompetent hands of the local governance.” 

“Well, that’s nice,” I commented, taking the last bite of my pear. Loki’s outstretched hand stopped mid-task in taking a grape. Loki was looking at me with a crooked smile.

“That’s... _nice_?” he asked with an inquisitive grin. “Is my pet a secret warmonger?” 

The absurd question had me nearly choking on the remnants of the sweet bite. Carefully swallowing, I reached over to pick at the tray of food. 

“No,” I said with a smile, “you’re going to help the farmers protect their crops. You’re helpful. That’s nice.” 

He seemed somewhat flummoxed by the answer, staring back at me with a blank expression. I watched him for a moment, his face quite expressionless, and shrugged my shoulders, returning to my task of carving out a sliver of apple with a paring knife to top the piece of cheese I had procured. 

I heard only the slightest shift from Loki before I felt his hands snake around me, taking a familiar claim over my belly. His nose nudged into my hair just behind my ear once again as he took in a deep breath. My skin tingled beneath his touch as one hand swept my hair back, my neck flushing at the soft, warm puffs of air from between his parted lips. 

A muted sound of pleasure could be heard from the back of my throat followed by the soft thunks of the apple and knife as they were forgotten on the table. His grip became tighter, a slight ache felt in my lower ribs at his constricting arms. I shifted slightly at the pressing hold.

“I would slaughter an entire legion,” he said as smooth as velvet in my ear, “just to hear that sound.”

Fear quickly flashed through my chest, my body going still as I muted my breaths, struggling to keep them quiet. I had no doubt he was speaking a truth of sorts, that he could kill--no, _slaughter_ \--those he saw as impediments to whatever goal he had. Loki could be so terrifying at times, and he clearly reveled in it as he pressed against my rigid frame. 

“Where wolf’s ears are, wolf’s teeth are near,” he said as he laid soft kisses down the side of my neck, eliciting a shiver from me.

Between his sharp teeth, he gently grabbed my already brutalized shoulder tissue. My body jolted at the gentle squeeze. Pulling me hard against him, he clamped down severely enough for a shock of pain to make me yelp and send me bucking back into him. I let out an involuntary whimper when he kept me solidly in place.

 _How could I think he was nice?_ I feverishly thought as one of his now seeking hands proceeded to gather up one side of my skirt, his other hand keeping me pulled against him, his arousal growing along with my anxiety.

 _I’m already so sore_ , I thought desperately, certain he had no plans to be gentle. Beginning to genuinely squirm to get away from him, I grabbed at the hand that was sliding up my thigh. Thankfully, his hand stopped its ascent, and he lifted his head, his teeth releasing me.

“I can’t--. It’s too soon--,” I bashfully muttered.

I was unceremoniously pulled forward when Loki slammed my palms onto the table’s polished surface. The sharp ache that shot through them quickly became irrelevant, however. 

“Move them, and I will make you scream,” he intoned darkly in my ear as his busy hands slid away. My arms became shaky supports as his fingers left trails of fire along my skin. 

_We should test that_ , spoke up that other voice from the shadows.

That was it. That was the confirmation I needed to determine that voice as suicidal. I had no doubt Loki was not exaggerating.

And yet… 

I couldn’t help but wonder, now that the thought was there… 

_What would happen if I lifted my hands_ ? _What would he do?_ That same feeling from the throne room--urging me to stick my tongue out at Loki, to provoke him--was growing at an alarming intensity.

The self-destructive thought had me pushing more heavily despite the screams of pain from my fingers and wrists, gritting my teeth to bare it. 

_Don’t you dare move those hands, Rune_ , I thought with determination. 

“That is a sweet pet,” praising my compliance as his hands began to gather my skirt up my legs once again.

All of my attention was taken, however, by a knock from the rainbow corridor, the queen’s voice calling Loki’s name from beyond the doors. My heart leapt into my throat.

After a labored pause, I felt my skirts fall, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Loki walked calmly over to let the queen in, giving me just enough time to arrange my hair once again, my hands whipping behind my back just as I caught sight of the queen. 

She looked to Loki before her eyes found me across the room, a look of surprise at first. But she smiled widely at me before turning to receive a kiss on the cheek from her son, the action quite endearing.

“Rune, how fortuitous. I was going to visit you after,” she said cheerfully. 

She made her way across the room, joining me near the table, lovely as ever in a white gossamer gown trimmed with silver beading. I made sure to keep my hands hidden, glancing at Loki nervously. The dancing light in his eyes at my distress should have been expected.

 _Jerk_.

“As my son must forgo your training today, I was curious if you would be inclined to meet with me this afternoon,” she offered kindly.

“If the master says _train_ , then she will train,” Loki said with a hint of exasperation before I could give an answer. “There is no need to offer an invite to an apprentice.”

Frigga gave her son a disappointed look, but it didn’t last long.

“I’d love to,” I said with an excited grin, training with the queen an unexpected gift, especially with Loki’s sudden departure.

“Splendid,” smiled the queen. “Come to my drawing room after midday meal. And only as long as Head Healer Eir may spare you.”

I gave her an enthused nod. She then turned her attention to Loki, reaching up to tuck a tuft of his glossy hair behind his ear. A tug pulled at the corner of his mouth, and his face seemed to soften as he looked at her.

 _I shouldn’t be watching this_ , I suddenly thought, feeling intrusive. I dropped my eyes to stare at the platter of food, decidedly fascinated with how many grapes were on the left side versus how many were in the second bunch on the right.

“You will be careful,” the queen said solemnly, a motherly blessing for safe travels. “You will listen to your father and brother.”

“I will aid in any way Father deems fit,” Loki promised, “and to a speedy end.”

The silence between them had me glancing up to see Loki’s gaze on me.

“It should take no more than a fortnight,” he said blandly, turning his attention back to his mother.

“Your father and brother are already in the stables,” said the queen who gave me a quick look and back to Loki again. “You should not keep them waiting.”

She reached up a hand to gently cup Loki’s cheek before moving to smooth his coat in a mother’s tidying manner. He gently removed her hand but gave her a fond smile of appreciation.

 _Who knew he could be so soft_ , I wondered, particularly with his most recent threat still fresh in my ears.

With another kind smile to me, the queen left us, closing the door behind her. Loki wasted no time once we were left alone, but instead of returning to me, he deposited himself back into his usual chair. He patted one of his thighs and raised his eyebrows at me with expectation.

When I didn’t move immediately, hesitant for many reasons, his narrowing eyes had my feet moving as though I had little say in the matter. My body’s mutiny to my will was becoming an ever-growing concern. 

_Just roll over and let him pet your belly while you’re at it_ , I chastised as I stepped between his legs and gingerly lowered myself onto Loki’s awaiting knee. His hand wrapped securely around my waist as his other hand reached up to push my hair back over my shoulder.

“I enjoy seeing my marks on your delicious skin,” he remarked as he proceeded to gently rub his thumb over one of the bruises along my neck. “A delectable image before I go. Had I the time, pet, I would have preferred to leave you quite incapacitated. Something by which to remember me.”

He suddenly jostled his knee up and down, lightly bouncing me to enjoy the pained looks and sounds I couldn’t help but give. He stopped with a smirk, and I glared at him. _Sadist!_

“Can you at least hide these for me before you leave?” I asked with evident irritation, holding my hands up. “I don’t want to have to give an excuse to your mother or anyone else as to why they look like this.”

“And what excuse would that be, pray tell?” he asked amusedly.

I looked at the damage, at a loss as to what excuse would ever work to explain why it looked precisely like I had been tied up. My inability to come up with one or look him in the eye made him give a solitary huff of a laugh.

As I stared at my hands, Loki passed one of his own over them, the mottled skin becoming clear once again. This time, I didn’t feel at the wrists to verify they were still hurt, the general throbbing ache just as noticeable as before. But I did give Loki a sharp look. 

“You didn’t have to touch them to make the illusion work,” I pointed out, alluding to the first illusion he had done for the same purpose. 

“No, I did not,” he said with a smug smile, his hand making small circles along my hip. He leaned in close to my ear. “I was not going to pass up an opportunity to touch you again, not after our little romp around my rooms. And not after your little confession.”

I couldn’t say why, but I felt my cheeks warm. Loki’s sharp eyes watched as I didn’t respond.

“You may stay here in my rooms while I am away,” he finally said, “though I would refrain from closing any doors if I were you.”

 _So the seidr lock would remain in place even with him so far away_ , I thought with some concern, fairly sure I’d accidentally forget and close the door just once. I could picture myself, yelling for hours or maybe days in hopes someone would hear me.

Or using my seidr...unable to recover…

I glanced over to the open bedroom door. After yesterday’s successes with controlling my seidr, I was curious to test my ability to get through the lock. Loki must have understood my glance.

“If you are to continue your training,” he said, reaching into his jacket to retrieve something, “you will need this.”

Dangling from his fingers was a thin, silver necklace, and at its end was a small vial.

“You made more of it this morning?” I asked with sudden excitement, the sight of the tonic perking me up instantly. It was a relief knowing there was more, that I wouldn’t have to refrain from using my seidr for fear of the physical toll it would take.

“No,” he replied as he moved to fasten the delicate metal around my neck. 

The tiny vial fell home on my breast, and I gave Loki a smile. The vial felt just like the last one. It even had a little cork...with the same amount of liquid inside... 

I narrowed my eyes at him. _He said he didn’t make more_. My eyes darted past Loki to search out the spot where I could have sworn his boot had crushed the little bottle, finding no evidence of its destruction from what I could see.

“You never broke it,” I stated, watching the morning light dance in his eyes.

“What a waste that would have been when an illusion could achieve the same result,” he said with a smug grin, proud of the success of his deception.

Despite feeling a little peeved at being tricked yet again, my ever-present curiosity shoved itself to the forefront of my mind.

“And what result was that?” I asked.

“Control...over your seidr, of course,” his tone patronizing.

Flashes of me writhing beneath Loki, that surge growing in my center and my decided snuffing of it were clear in my memory. 

_And he had orchestrated it all. He wanted to provoke my seidr and took away the tonic to force me to control myself,_ the realization of the lengths Loki would go to train me slightly scary. Images of the bloodied officers who had their own experience with Loki’s training came to mind, the extent to which he would push when he chose to teach a lesson clear. A familiar chill ran up my back.

 _But you succeeded, Rune. That was all you,_ I told myself with a slight nod of affirmation, deciding to focus on my success rather than the scary mind of the god whose lap I was perched on. 

_Are you sure that was a success?_ quipped in that antagonizing voice. _Or did you do exactly what he wanted you to do? Not fight back?_

Loki was silently watching me in the brief moment it took for the thoughts to streak through my busy mind. I returned his quiet observation with my own. Though his motives were unclear, his trick had managed to teach me some restraint. Deciding not to dwell on what his intentions had been, I lifted my chin with a bit of pride and chose to focus on the accomplishment.

“Yes, I suppose I can finally rein it in at least,” I acknowledged. I looked back down at the tonic, picking it up and inspecting the fine metal rope it hung from. The tiny links of shiny metal appeared dangerously fragile.

“Perhaps I should get a new leather thong for it,” I said, as I ran the necklace between my forefinger and thumb. “I’d hate for it to break.”

Loki gave a small laugh. Around one finger, he coiled the chain a few times in a playful manner.

“Having been smithed by the great dwarf Reginn, it could serve better use as a garrote than to break so easily, pet,” he informed as he leisurely tugged at the apparently indestructible chain, pulling me by the neck until I was close enough to count the fine lashes lining the bottom of his eyes. His gaze instantly became hardened ice.

“You will not remove this from your neck under any circumstance,” he said with that same warning tone that seemed to carry an unspoken threat within it. I nodded silently.

With a swift movement, he had stood and set me on my feet. Tilting my face up to his with a finger under my chin, he dipped down and gave a surprisingly warm kiss that made my body turn to jelly in an instant. I couldn’t help but lean into his solid self.

“...more…” I mumbled when he started to pull away, slinking one of my hands behind his neck to pull him back to my mouth.

Removing my hand, his harsh grasp on my wrist had me hissing involuntarily at the stinging skin.

“Behave, pet,” he warned in a low tone, releasing my wrist when I pulled in irritation. I held the wrist gingerly in my other hand, scowling at him as I took a couple steps away.

“It’ll be nice to not get new bruises every day,” I grumbled at him.

“Not for too long, pet,” he promised with a wink and a crooked smile as he passed by me, leaving the door open behind him as his booted steps echoed down the rainbow corridor.

~ ~ ~ 

It had taken me only a few minutes to gather up my meager belongings in Loki’s bedroom, now wrapped in a tight bundle under my arm. Making sure my hair was properly situated, checking my wrists one last time to verify they appeared fine, and touching the glass bottle hanging from its chain, I left Loki’s rooms to return to the servants’ quarters.

I was pleasantly surprised to see my familiar shadow waiting just outside the ominous corridor when I stepped from it. 

“Morning, Kåre,” I said with a smile, happy to see his stoic face.

“ _Dauðleg kona_ ,” he replied with a nod but without meeting my eyes. 

The smile slid from my face as Kåre quietly fell alongside me. We began our walk back through the labyrinthine corridors of the palace, an uncomfortable silence accompanying us.

“I need to go put my things away first,” I commented as I turned to head in the direction of the servants’ quarters rather than Healers Hall. 

Kåre said nothing but followed my lead, even waiting silently outside the storage room when I remembered I needed bed linens. Leaving him standing outside my room with the door opened wide as an invitation for him to come in, I quickly stowed my bundle in my wardrobe and hastily made the bed. I made certain to keep my face turned away from the door, hiding my winces of pain here and there in the process. Giving a gentle pat to the pillow after returning it to its pillowcase, I turned to see Kåre looking at me, something clearly on his mind; a worried crease had formed between his brows.

“Kåre?” I prompted.

“‘Twas your choice to stay with the prince, Rune?” he questioned. “‘Twas your choice, was it not?”

Though I hadn’t expected anything in particular to come from his mouth, his question was surprising. He already knew I had chosen to train with the prince after all.

“Of course it was,” I reassured him. “I want to learn to control my seidr.”

“Yesterday, when I saw you…,” he paused, choosing his next words, “...when he pulled you from the library…”

 _We_ had _been noticed_ , I thought with dread. Kåre, who must have been guarding from outside the library, had seen Loki steering me by the elbow in a relative rush, his face set with purpose. 

I recalled my own observation at Loki’s appearance in that harried walk to his rooms. I shook my head at the presumptions the protective guard was undoubtedly making.

“The prince was...in a rush,” I said vaguely. “He had something to do...and needed me to come with him.”

Not wanting to have this conversation with Kåre, I decided to divert the topic.

“I’ve learned a lot already. I was able to control my seidr last night…,” the words dying away as I tried diverting the conversation again. “And the queen’s going to train me while the prince is gone. I’m supposed to see her later today.”

The mention of the queen seemed to give the man some comfort as the small crease between his eyes unbunched. I breathed a sigh of relief as he gave me a nod and a small smile.

“Did you have to stand outside the library all day yesterday?” I asked sympathetically. “How bored you must have been.”

“How can you read for so long, _dauðleg kona_?” his eyes widening with sincere wonder, making me laugh.

“It felt like an eternity to me too,” I commiserated, giving him a light pat on his armored shoulder as we headed out to Healers Hall. 

The familiar friendly feeling had returned between us, and I felt more at ease than I had in days. My spirits were lifted at returning to the familiar hall and familiar company; I couldn’t help but give Inger and Eir both a hug when I walked into the hall.

“Have you returned while the king and princes are away?” asked Inger immediately, her earnestness heartwarming.

“I’m back in here except when the queen is training me,” I explained. “I actually have to go see her after midday meal.”

“What a pity,” frowned Inger, “you cannot accompany me to the city to retrieve supplies this afternoon.”

My heart fell a little in disappointment at the missed opportunities, catching up with Inger and seeing more of Asgard.

“Maybe next time,” I said, my shoulders slumping a little.

But I was distracted quickly when I remembered that I had news to tell Eir.

“Oh, I wanted to speak with you, Eir. I’ve remembered something,” I said, turning to the healer. 

Wasting no time, Eir had me sitting at the desk, herself opposite me, and her journal of notes flipped open to a clean page, ready for whatever new developments I could provide. Inger wandered away to continue whatever duties she had been tasked with prior to my arrival as I told Eir about remembering my given name and the still vague recollection of my mother.

“And had anything occurred prior to these memories returning?” she queried.

Not wanting to go into too much of the finer details and the battle of wills Loki and I had been having in the moment, I kept it simple, explaining, “The prince had used my given name, Rúna, and I suddenly remembered. He said it was an old name from history between Asgard and Ear-- Midgard. Something to do with the king and how he lost his eye.”

“I grew and well I was; each word led me on to another word,” intoned Eir as she tapped her chin with the tip of her pen thoughtfully, eventually making a note with her brows raised in mild surprise. “The prince’s sharp mind should be commended.” 

Though there wasn’t much to elaborate on, Eir seemed pleased just to have some sort of recovery occurring. “A step forward is still a step forward, no matter how small,” was how she phrased it.

~ ~ ~ 

The morning had passed by quickly, Eir giving me plenty of tasks, including a visit to Fulla for more bandaging. Per usual, the vibrant woman gave me a warm hug.

While there, I requested a new work frock--skirting around the reason why--and somehow left having accepted the seamstress’s enthusiastic offer to make a few everyday dresses for me as well. I refused to accept without her taking payment in return for her time and the cost of materials, which she finally agreed to after she whittled down my offer to a more reasonable amount in her eyes. On the way to the queen that afternoon, Kåre assured me that I had gotten the better end of the deal. Fulla was too kind.

“Come in,” called the queen’s voice after I gave a soft knock on her drawing room door. 

My shadow remained on guard outside as I joined the queen, taking care to lower myself gently into what was becoming my regular seat next to her. 

“I thought we may talk for today,” she began with a friendly smile. “I believe thorough understanding of the nature of one’s seidr is key to mastering it.”

I smiled widely at the similarity between Loki’s bombardment of information and the queen’s echo that knowledge was the starting point, his training theory obviously born from his own apprenticeship under the queen. I gave her a nod in agreement.

“My son was not particularly detailed in his account of what happened that morning,” started the queen, her eyes watching me carefully. “Would you be willing to elaborate about your seidr use in that instance?”

I gently wrapped my fingers around my wrists, suddenly afraid Loki’s illusion was going to disappear. I could see where the conversation was going to go, and I didn’t care for the dance I was going to have to give.

“Are they still painful, dear?” she asked with a regretful tone, her eyes catching my movement.

 _How does she--?_ A streak of panic had my breath stopping before I remembered, _No, she must be thinking of the other day_.

“They are feeling better every day,” I lied between my smiling lips, trying to alleviate her evident feeling of guilt. It was at least a relief that any expressed pain over my wrists wouldn’t be suspicious. “What would you like to know?”

The queen tore her eyes from my wrists and gave me her full attention.

“I understand that he sent for you after he ate the dessert you made for him,” she explained helpfully. “That he was under the influence of your seidr when he…”

She stopped, clearly uncomfortable at the images her mind was conjuring for her.

“When I got there,” I spoke up, “he was angry. Or maybe it was more that he seemed frustrated. He kept accusing me of being a witch, and I kept denying it, which made him more...persistent to have me confirm his accusations.”

The queen said nothing but listened attentively.

“The tart...my seidr...got the better of him. And suddenly I was fighting him, and then he was thrown back,” I ended lamely, the queen’s lips pursing disapprovingly by the end. The look reminded me strongly of one that Eir had given me a time or two.

“I deeply regret failing to properly train my son in self discipline, Rune,” Frigga said with such solemnity that I couldn’t help but feel touched by her concern for me. I gave her an acknowledging nod.

“Could you describe what happened just before your seidr burst from you?” she asked. “Did you feel anything? Did your body do anything?”

I closed my eyes and concentrated on remembering the moment, trying to blur through the parts that would make me blush. Soon, I opened my eyes, my hands held out in front of me, palms out.

“I had pressed my hands against his chest,” I recalled. “And I remember feeling something shooting down through my feet and out through my hands at once. It cracked the wood floor beneath my feet and pushed the prince back several steps.”

The queen gave a nod, explaining, “Most seidr use requires channeling through the use of one’s extremities--hands, fingers, tentacles and the like.”

I was instantly burning with questions at the mention of tentacles, but the queen had moved on.

“Was that the last time you were able to expel your seidr?”

I shook my head slowly, the queen raising an eyebrow with interest.

“Yesterday, in the library, the prince had tasked me with reading. He had me read about the Norns and...some poetry and then some branch of seidr that was confusing,” I rambled, trying to stall as I figured out what I was going to say. The queen didn’t flinch in her constant watch, making me fiddle with the hem of my apron dress as my nerves got the better of me.

“The princes left to attend a meeting, and when Prince Loki returned,” I continued, now looking down at my fingers that were picking away at nothing, “he provoked me. I caused a bunch of books to fall off the shelves.”

“Was it similar to what you felt previously?” she asked quietly.

“Not at first. I couldn’t use my hands.” Realizing what that implied, I suddenly looked up to see the queen’s eyebrows raise with surprise, making me quickly add, “But eventually I could!”

She said nothing but started to get that worried crease between her eyebrows.

“I shook, like quick vibrations,” I said animatedly, trying to draw the focus back to my seidr. “And the vibrations made the books fall off their shelves. And…”

“Please, continue, Rune,” encouraged the queen, her voice having taken on a quiet calm. I swallowed, my mouth feeling uncomfortably dry.

“When...the prince couldn’t hold onto my arms any longer,” I said without meeting her eyes, “I was able to flatten my hands against him like before. It repelled him back a step or so.”

We sat quietly for a moment. I didn’t know what else to say, but the queen’s muteness spoke volumes. Loki wasn’t coming out in a good light in any of this, and though I hadn’t lied, I felt terribly guilty.

“May I be honest with you?” I finally asked, meeting her eye to convey the sincerity of what I was about to say.

“Please, do,” she encouraged.

“Sometimes, I don’t understand the motivations of the prince. And though his training methods are surprising at times,” I admitted, “I think they’re working. I am still willing to train under him if it results in me controlling my seidr.”

Frigga sat silently, watching me as she processed my willingness to continue under her son’s tutelage. _She probably thinks I’m crazy. Or just a moron._

“That will always remain your choice, Rune,” she finally said as though she were reminding me of my options. Taking a slightly heavy breath, she continued, “It seems as though your seidr may be best utilized in a defensive manner for now. It appears to be more naturally in tune with you in moments of...pressure.”

I couldn’t tell if the queen’s words revealed her understanding of what sort of interactions had been occurring between Loki and I, but she seemed willing to respect my choice to endure them. I gave her a thankful smile.

“I spent all afternoon yesterday trying to make a shield, but nothing would happen,” I said with a light hint of my previous frustration coming through. “It was in one of the books the prince had me studying.”

The queen’s face brightened as she leaned forward to pat my hand sympathetically.

“I could never manage to create one either,” she admitted. “No, I think we may do better with some traditional defensive lessons first before incorporating your seidr. Have you ever trained for combat?”

The conversation steered away from discussion of Loki, and I relaxed as the queen postulated defensive training possibilities based on my answers to her varied questions. Had I ever trained for combat or defense? Had I ever held a weapon? Which hand was my dominant one? The questions were numerous, and each answer gave the queen a moment of pause as she sifted through her own thoughts.

We continued in such a manner until Frigga finally settled on a training plan to start the next afternoon. I was to meet her in the training courtyard after midday meal the next day. What exactly we would be doing was yet to be determined by her, but she seemed to get that small spark of interest in her eye, the same one I had seen often in her youngest son. Though seeing it in her deeper blue eyes, more similar to Thor’s than Loki’s, I didn’t feel the same immediate sense of dread.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there. I just wanted to thank all of you who are reading this. I’m loving creating this story. Thank you all for the comments! Also, my silent readers… I see you stopping by… ...thanks…


	14. Ch. 14 - The Nature of It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s a bit of fun to make up for the lengthy interval between chapters.

Despite returning to the solitude of my bed, the distraction of Loki lying next to me now absent, he still managed to creep into my dreams. Ghosts of his actions, his words, his hands, his skin, his lips, all haunted my fitful sleep. On numerous occasions, I was torn from the precipice of pleasure into the cold darkness, at one point cursing to the empty room before rolling over and shoving my head under my pillow. When Inger’s familiar knock sounded as the sun was just beginning to lighten the sky, I was already awake, having given up on torturing myself any further some time in the predawn hours.

Though the sleepless night had me dragging my feet as I left my room, seeing Inger and Kåre talking low, heads tilted towards one another, pepped me up immediately. Inger gave me a bright smile as I approached, and her shadow gave me his usual head nod but with a gentle smile. I purposefully sidled to the outer edge of the corridor to allow them to walk alongside one another, enjoying watching them as we made our way to morning meal.

To my surprise, instead of waiting outside once we got to the hall, Kåre joined us at the desk, lowering himself next to Inger. I looked at Eir, pulling a face of exaggerated surprise, to which she quietly grinned before lifting the tray cover and letting us begin. The addition of the guard to our morning meal must have become regular in the couple days I had been absent as even his morning messages were delivered along with those for the healers. The disappointment that I hadn't been able to accompany Inger to the city and pepper her with questions weighed a bit more heavily as I watched the couple exchange small glances and put food on one another’s plate.

I spent the morning assisting with the usual tasks of the hall alongside Eir, a patient or two arriving to request aid for minor cuts and burns, predominantly from the kitchens. Though I was busy changing the bed linens, I listened attentively to any news, from comments on the plans for dinner to the minor drama of Andhrímnir bellowing a kitchen servant to tears because she mistakenly salted the already salted beef taken from the pantry stores. I hung on every word, missing the bustling hubbub.

When midday meal finally came and went, I was antsy to be preoccupied, hurrying to the enclosed courtyard as speedily as I could. Kåre was only able to catch up with me when I became unsure of how to reach the ground level, having only seen the training area from the wooden walkway overhead.

The queen hadn’t arrived by the time we stepped into the cobblestone yard, so I made my way over to the still golden tree at its center. It had felt so long since I had been near a natural thing that I reached out and patted its trunk in appreciation. A few of its buttery leaves drifted down around me as I made my way out from under it and over to the large weapons racks running along the length of the yard. They housed a variety of weapons: axes that looked too heavy to pick up let alone swing; blades of various sizes, widths, and designs; and spears and lances among other items I couldn’t identify. Kåre watched me from a few steps away as I investigated.

“Do you prefer your lance?” I asked conversationally, tentatively gripping one on the rack. “Or is it just what you’re assigned to carry?”

My shadow moved closer, leaning the lance he held against the rack before reaching for one of the large double-edged swords.

“For close combat, I would choose such,” he commented, stepping back to give a few controlled strokes, adjusting his grip until it felt right. “But ‘tis a bow and arrow that calls to my heart.”

“Why aren’t you an archer, then?”

He stepped forward and placed the blade back in its hold. 

“There has been no need for archers for some time. I serve where I am needed.”

Knowing how long Asgardian lives could be, I was about to ask how long was “some time” when the queen made her appearance. Though she wore a lovely dress of royal blue, she also sported another chest piece, this one silver, with matching vambraces. Her usual cascade of hair was intricately braided and pinned in spirals and waves atop her head. Wearing my apron dress with my hair loose around my neck to keep Loki’s marks hidden, I immediately felt under dressed.

“Have any taken your interest, Rune?” asked the queen with an inquisitive smile as she joined us before the weapons.

Giving the rack another look, this time genuinely considering what I would grab if I had a choice, I finally reached out and pointed. It was a round, wooden shield with a smooth dome of metal at its center. It looked to be the least threatening item in the bunch.

The queen’s smile pulled at one corner as her eyes seemed to dance slightly, considering my choice with evident amusement.

“For defensive purposes, a shield is a smart choice,” she commented as she reached out to take up one of the large discs with apparent ease. 

Along with it, however, she grabbed a much shorter blade than the one Kåre had brandished. It was longer than Loki’s dagger, but it was shorter than the length of the queen’s arm. She adjusted her hold on it, having the length of it running up the back of her arm as she handed the shield to the guard.

“Would you mind, Kåre?”

Placing the shield before himself, he and the queen took a few steps away from me. With a nod from him, the queen moved with speed and fluidity, slashing at Kåre’s more vulnerable spots, forcing him to constantly adjust what the shield protected. With the sounds of metal against wood filling the courtyard, the queen’s blows became so aggressive that the young guard had to take several steps back. Her attack stopped just as quickly as it had begun, my mind left reeling at the impressive display.

“Well done,” she praised him as they walked back over to me. “What are your thoughts of the shield now, Rune?”

The queen was giving me her full attention, an honest look of interest in her eyes. Surprised by the question, I blinked rapidly before looking back and forth between the queen and Kåre. I eventually settled on looking at the shield.

“Well, it did what it was supposed to,” I mused aloud.

“Anything else?” prompted the queen.

 _She would have won,_ said that other voice, pointing out the obvious flaw. For once, we were in agreement.

“Kåre couldn’t do much other than block. You were in control the entire time,” I acknowledged.

The queen gave me a smile.

“Well observed,” she praised as she held out the short sword’s hilt to me. “Perhaps something that can both defend and attack would be preferable.”

I took the grip, the blade dipping toward the ground when the queen’s hand let go. It felt heavier than Frigga had made it appear, her dance-like fighting style making it look feather light. Taking another short sword from the rack, she ushered me out to the open courtyard.

We spent a good deal of time just getting me to learn proper stance, balance while moving and remaining still, and how to grip the sword and move it without hurting myself in the process. By the time I had illustrated a decent improvement to the queen’s satisfaction, the sun had begun to dip out of sight behind the palace walls that enclosed the yard. My arms and shoulders were sore, the blade becoming noticeably weightier by the end. With both the queen’s and my own in hand, hanging rather limply at my sides, I returned the two weapons back to the rack. I swiped at the sweat that stuck my hair irritatingly to my face and neck, silently cursing Loki for it.

“We will pick up your training the day following tomorrow, same time,” Frigga stated as I returned. “Will that be agreeable, Rune?”

“Yes,” I said succinctly, adding a nod, too tired to say or do much else.

“Be sure to rest,” advised the queen with a humored smile before she left me with my shadow.

As we walked back to Healers Hall--or rather as I slouched and my shadow paced me--I noticed Kåre’s eyes dodging over to catch mine numerous times before I finally couldn’t take it any longer.

“What?” I asked with slight exasperation as I tiredly shuffled along.

“Have you truly never held a sword before, _dauðleg kona_?” he teased with a slight upturn at the corner of his mouth.

“Have I ever given you the impression I was a warrior?” I retorted defensively.

The guard chuckled once and shook his head, commenting, “Every Asgardian learns to hold a sword when still a child.”

“Not all Earthians...Midgardians are warriors,” I argued, getting another sidelong glance from Kåre.

“You may not look it, _dauðleg kona_ ,” his tone returning to its usual sobriety, “but you do not lack the spirit. The queen saw it from the start, else she would not have kept you so long.”

“More like stubbornness,” I half-heartedly laughed, recalling Loki’s comment about my “spirit.” 

However, knowing that both Kåre and the queen saw some hope in me, a warm sense of encouragement took root in my chest. _You’ll get better, Rune._

~ ~ ~ 

I was silently following the familiar tall, dark figure of Loki down the twisting roads and darkly shadowed alleyways of some city. He was a good distance ahead of me, the sounds of his booted steps echoing off the walls of what looked like a mixture of homes and storefronts, some having signs while others had domestic touches of potted plants and curtained windows. The stone structures and their streets looked neglected, broken stones and cracks housing wild vegetation pock-marking the empty road.

He finally came to a halt at the corner of the street, as though he were deciding which direction to turn before darting swiftly to his right. I ran up to the corner, taking the turn a bit haphazardly, slipping on the uneven stones but catching myself in time to see Loki already at the other end of a long, narrow alley. He still had his back to me, but his head was turned to the side, perhaps checking over his shoulder for who was so clumsily following him. 

“Wait!” I called as I began running to him, afraid of losing him down one of the many unfamiliar streets. But before I could reach him, he darted out of sight.

When I finally rounded the corner, my steps became dull against the wooden floorboards of what looked like a tavern. A grizzled man served tankards of amber liquids to a mix of people mulling around a rough-hewn bar, talking, laughing, drowning their sorrows. Across the noisy room, taking a seat in a darker corner away from the warm glow of the roaring fireplace, I noticed Loki’s dark, lanky shape. Slipping through the crowds of boisterous men and women cheering and laughing, I walked up to the table Loki had sat at only to find a buxom barmaid sitting closely with someone who looked like an officer though his armor wasn’t the same as the palace guards’. He stood out like a sore thumb among the more casually dressed bar patrons. 

Neither he nor his companion gave me any attention as I turned on the spot, looking for where Loki could have slipped off to.

“I would not think myself a man if I took advantage of a poor maid as yourself,” I heard the officer caution. There was something in his tone that had me turning to watch him take the woman’s hand from atop the table and slide it underneath. I rolled my eyes at the display, returning to scan the room.

“No need to worry yourself,” trilled the woman’s bell-like voice, ending with a flirtatious laugh. “I always play to win.”

I looked back at the woman. Stepping nearer their table, I tried to get a closer look at her, light dancing in her eyes despite the darkened corner they were huddled in. A creeping sensation tickled at the back of my neck, my hand reaching up to rub at it.

I woke to the blackness of my room, one of my hands curled around the back of my neck. Rolling over, I nestled into my pillow, soon drifting off again.

~ ~ ~

A loud clang of metal hitting the cobbled yard snapped me to attention. 

It had been the second time I had lost my grip on my sword, the queen relaxing her pose as she watched me bend down and gather it back up again. The wind from a building seasonal storm whipped at my skirts, the greying clouds skittering across the sky overhead. It felt as though the weather had chosen to project my inner turmoil.

The two week timeline Loki had predicted had arrived, and not a word had been said about Odin and the princes’ return. My odd dreams involving Loki had continued nightly, their content building my concern and confusion. At times, I followed him through the twists and turns of a strange city, never able to make headway. At other times, I thought I cornered him, only to find myself eavesdropping on conversations of strangers, discussing people I didn’t know, making deals in the shadows, exchanging information for unknown purposes. Only recently, I had begun to wake with a tightness in my chest, the nightly chases wearing on my nerves.

But even in my waking hours, my mind had kept drifting to thoughts of Loki, of where he was, of what he was doing, of when he was going to return. 

_Give it a rest already!_ I frustratedly told my singularly obsessed brain.

Facing the queen in the training yard, readying my stance once again, she effortlessly slapped my sword out of my hand with her own for the third time. The clatter of its fall made me cringe, giving Frigga an apologetic look.

“You seem distracted today,” her tone observational, not critical.

“I’m sorry, your grace,” I said, bending down to retrieve my weapon yet again. 

In the two weeks since I had begun training, I had learned better than to allow my sword to drop so easily from my hand, receiving a memorable warning from the queen once. The first time she had disarmed me, she had slipped her blade beneath my chin when I had bent to retrieve my weapon, the touch of the cold, sharp metal stilling me instantly.

“You will need to be more careful,” she had gently chastised, removing her blade and allowing me to straighten. “If you lose your weapon, freezing will serve you poorly.”

That was easier said than done, however. Whether it was at the end of the queen’s blade or in Loki’s hands, fighting felt like the poor choice to make against such intimidating opponents.

Now in the tumultuous courtyard, the crannies and corners littered with much of the golden tree’s coin-like leaves, I faced the queen, the gritty feeling of dirt noticeable along my sword’s hilt from its repeated visits to the ground. Gripping tighter despite the small pebbles that pressed into my palm, I saw her shoulder dip, the only indication of her intentions before her sword swung out to test my grip once again. This time, however, I was able to deflect and still keep hold of my blade.

I began to grin, my celebration a bit premature, when the queen’s blade made a second and immediate attempt to disarm me. And this time was successful, the flat of her blade smacking the back of my hand smartly, my fingers releasing from surprise more than the mild sting. But the queen wasn’t finished, stepping over my weapon towards me. 

“What do you do, Rune?” she prompted without halting her slow advance.

My mind was in a panic as I took mirroring steps back, my eyes fruitlessly glancing between Frigga’s composed expression and my weapon now lying behind her.

That small spark buried somewhere in my center flickered, and I recognized the familiar surge of my seidr coming to my aid, raising my hands out before me as I had done so many times before. However, with each step the queen took towards me, the more I felt something unpleasant taking hold of my insides.

I was afraid.

Afraid of hurting her. 

Afraid of my ability to control my seidr. 

I stamped at the center of the radiating power, killing it swiftly in only a few steps. When I ran out of space to retreat, I gave up, holding my arms up in an X between the queen and myself, squeezing my eyes shut. After a moment of silence and darkness, I peaked to see the queen standing before me with raised eyebrows.

“What happened?” she asked curiously.

“I panicked,” defeat clear in my voice as I stood straighter and lowered my arms, composing myself.

“That is not accurate,” Frigga corrected, tilting her head as she considered me. Then, she turned to Kåre who had been observing us from the weapons rack. “Did you notice, Kåre?”

The guard took a few steps to draw near us, nodding in agreement with whatever the queen was referencing.

“‘Twas a brief moment,” he said. “But ‘twas there, your grace.”

“Were you about to use your seidr, Rune?” asked the queen, returning to look at me.

“Well, only for a moment,” I speedily defended, “but I stopped it.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t want to possibly hurt you,” I tried to explain, the remnants of the fear still making my stomach uneasy. “I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to control it.”

“But you did control it,” pointed out the queen kindly with an assuring smile.

“I stopped it. Stopping it and actually controlling it… They seem like two vastly different things,” I tried to argue. “What if I used it but lost control? What if I hurt you?”

Both the queen and Kåre grinned at my words, clearly the seriousness of the potential consequences not weighing too heavily in their minds. The queen turned and retrieved my blade, handing it back to me when I joined her in the middle of the courtyard, my shadow returning to his post near the weapons.

“No one has ever improved without trying first,” stated the queen matter-of-factly as she took her stance before me once again. 

The accumulating clouds had finally become heavy enough to start dripping, large splatters dotting the dusty cobblestones. Their chilly points of contact along my arms and face sent small shivers through me as I gripped my hilt securely.

“Follow your instincts, Rune,” Frigga advised. “They are there to protect you.”

The flash of her sword came without warning, but I managed to deflect in time, now ready for her second swing as she had done before. She was consistent, elegantly adjusting her momentum so that her sword returned to mine, attempting to knock it from my hand, but I was determined to not let that happen. 

Letting the force of the blow carry me to the left, I turned around once to follow the trajectory of the weighty weapon now glued to my palm. Coming around to meet the queen’s eyes, sharp below her slightly lowered brow, I felt myself plant my back leg, knees bent to keep my balance centered. The sword poised before me while my other hand was down at my hip, fingers splayed at the ready.

Then, the queen made a movement towards me. 

A bolt of my seidr ran up my spine, burning down my arm to accumulate just beneath the skin of my palm and fingertips. The sensation of cool, smooth stone filled my hand, and by Frigga’s second step towards me, I had flicked my hand forward, a white stone releasing from it and lodging itself just under the queen’s foot. Its sudden presence sent the queen lurching awkwardly to the side as her ankle rolled.

She caught herself but gingerly kept her rolled foot slightly elevated from the ground while Kåre hurried from his spot, immediately offering the queen his arm. I stood there like one of the training dummies, warring emotions of shock and horror keeping me from doing much more than blinking.

 _What did you do, Rune?!_

“You were quick,” cut in the amused words of the queen, bringing my attention back to the situation. To my relief, her smile reached her eyes. “Take your tonic, dear.”

Her nod towards the vial around my neck had me blindly grabbing for it, not taking my eyes off the queen as Kåre and I escorted her out of the rain and under the protection of the upper walkways that ran the perimeter of the yard. After managing a drop from the bottle, I reached out to take the queen’s sword, the sensation of the seidr restorative sending a chill through me as I returned our weapons to the rack.

“Excellent control, Rune,” praised the queen when I joined their very slow progression down the corridor taking us back to Healers Hall.

“But I hurt you,” pointing out the obvious fulfillment of my fear.

She laughed, reaching out her free hand towards me, slipping it around my arm as though I were escorting her.

“In the mildest manner possible,” she teased, getting an audible chuckle from the guard on her other side. “Though it was highly effective. Your precision was a wonder.”

I felt my cheeks warm at the praise.

“It was strange, like my body knew what to do without my mind participating,” I commented, an odd mix of emotions warring again inside me; a clear sense of accomplishment hugged itself around my ball of fear. 

Similar to her younger son’s uncanny ability at times to guess what I was thinking, the queen seemed to understand what I was feeling.

“Listen to your instincts,” she reiterated, giving me a soft smile. “Seidr is a natural part of those who wield it. As such, it is entwined with your natural self, your body. You must trust it, Rune.”

 _My body is a traitor_ , I thought bitterly, recalling the times it wouldn’t listen to my head when Loki was involved. Trusting it was going to be a difficult hurdle to overcome.

When we finally made it through the doors to the hall, Eir was immediately concerned at the sight of the queen being assisted, her current task left without care as she rushed over to take the queen’s arm from me.

“Your grace, what have you done?” came the slightly disappointed words of the healer.

 _She even uses that tone with the queen,_ I noted with a grin. 

I stepped away to let Eir do her own sort of magic, moving over to the desk where the younger healer was observing the scene, Kåre in my wake. Seeing me approach, Inger gave a bright smile, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet in apparent excitement.

“Rune, I have to visit the city tomorrow morning for Eir,” she announced happily. “Would you be able to join me?”

The appealing prospect of visiting the city, leaving the palace, seeing more of Asgard had me smiling back at Inger’s excited expression. But before I could respond, Kåre interjected.

“You are under guard, _dauðleg kona_ ,” he reminded me, but Inger waved a hand at him in a disregarding manner.

“You may still guard her in the city,” she pointed out to him, then turning back to me. “It may be an opportune time to request the queen’s permission...while she is in our company.”

I followed Inger’s gaze to the queen who was having her ankle gently maneuvered by Eir’s practiced hands.

“Prince Loki would not approve.”

The warning grabbed my attention back to Kåre who had spoken. _Would Loki refuse me a visit to the city?_ I wondered before that other voice answered, _Of course, he would. He kept you locked in his room._ I narrowed my eyes at the guard, my hands going to my hips.

“Well, he’s not here. And the queen is.”

 _If one mentor gives permission, then that’s good enough for me_ , I convinced myself on the spot.

Getting the queen’s permission was easier than I could have wished for; informing her of Inger’s invite, she agreed to allowing my leave--“A reward you rightly deserve,” was how she had put it. But of course, I had to give assurances of Kåre’s chaperoning as well as not being late to training the following day. 

Both Inger and I began to excitedly discuss plans, sounding like chattering birds, before Eir hushed us. I noticed she wore a warm smile, however, one that matched the queen’s. Kåre seemed the only one displeased about the plans, watching us with a slight crease between his eyes. 

His concern hadn’t diminished by the next morning, still slightly frowning as the three of us checked with Eir in Healers Hall before setting out. 

_Since when did Kåre start caring so much about what Loki would think?_ I wondered, eyeing the guard’s ruffled countenance as the usual morning messages were distributed.

“For you,” mumbled the guard. 

Kåre held out a small, folded, and sealed piece of paper, my questioning look at him unsuccessful as he wouldn’t meet my eye, the note in his other hand much more interesting.

I took the small paper that had “Apprentice” hastily scrawled in Loki’s handwriting on the outside. _Why would Loki send Kåre a letter for me? And why now?_ He hadn’t sent any other communication over the past weeks, the aberration making me feel ill at ease as I opened and read the letter.

“I am pleased to hear word of your progress while I have been away, something I will be interested to observe upon my return. Though it may still be some time before such a reunion, I expect the rewards will be worth the wait.”

 _Maybe the queen told him I was doing well?_ A slight warmth spread across my face, making me dip my head a little as I continued to read.

“Despite your apparent successes, under no circumstance are you permitted to leave the palace. For the safety of the Asgardian people, of course.”

 _Oh, really?_

I suspiciously eyed Kåre standing across from me, diligently studying his own letter from Prince Bossy Pants. My eyes returned to finish Loki’s final comments.

“I look forward to continuing your training myself. Until then, behave, pet.”

He even had the nerve to sign “Your Master.”

How Loki was able to still irk me in the space of such a short letter was a wonder. I immediately crumpled the offending note into a ball after finishing it, pulling it beneath my cloak and stuffing it unceremoniously into one of the pockets of my new frock. Fulla’s creations had fit me perfectly, the seamstress’s artistic license flattering my more curvaceous self. However, pockets weren’t a usual thing in Asgardian attire, so I was thankful Fulla had taken into account my practical suggestion when I first requested new clothes.

“Should we head out?” I asked, excited for the day.

Inger smiled and nodded, checking her list of items with Eir once more before we left. My shadow looked at me worriedly, his usual calm demeanor now quietly agitated. I watched with a slight sense of enjoyment, knowing full well that Kåre knew what the prince had told me. I eventually positioned myself next to him to wait for Inger to join us.

“So how long have you been spying on me?” I asked casually. When Kåre turned to me, his embarrassment was clear as he struggled to hold my eye.

“The prince requested daily reports of your progress the morning of his departure,” he said quietly.

“And what does me going to the city have to do with my progress?” I asked, knowing he wasn’t telling the whole truth. The further drop of his head said it all.

“I apologize, Rune,” he muttered. “I mentioned to him Inger’s planned invitation weeks ago when she first brought up the matter. After that,” he paused, taking a breath as though it was difficult to say aloud, “he requested to know your plans and your duties around the palace. When you were somewhere and for what duration. With whom you spoke. The...nature of your conversations.”

The briefest flash of irritation flared in my chest, but I was unable to ignore how ashamed the guard appeared, his body screaming it. The mortified man--what little of his neck I could see past his armor flushing red--looked about to bow over, his head hung so low. 

Thor’s descriptor of “pup” seemed accurate in the moment as Kåre looked more like a shamed dog than a man. The comparison made me suddenly smile. 

“I suppose you were just following orders,” I finally acknowledged in a begrudging tone, giving him a brief smile of forgiveness when he eventually met my eye. It was really Loki who deserved my ire, anyway.

“You will stay within the palace, then?” hopefully asked my shadow, raising his chin finally.

“Oh, of course not. I’m still going to the city,” I said dismissively, adding before Inger could join us, “If the queen gave me permission, her word out ranks his, doesn’t it?”

The look the guard gave me revealed his doubt that the prince would agree, but he couldn’t argue against the validity of the queen’s permission. When he remained silent, I gave him a bright smile of triumph just as Inger hopped over to us, excited to set out.

The morning was a wondrous blur of new sights. I had little awareness of how close the city was to the palace until we stepped through the heavily guarded entrance. I could see in the distance that the wide road leading from the palace entrance joined the illuminated rainbow bridge I had noted before. The city spread from the main road on either side, a wonder of oddly spire-like buildings constructed from a mixture of the same palace stone and various metals. Organic landscaping spilled from gardens, trees, and parks, easily fed through a network of small streams that meandered naturally alongside roads, spilling from miniature waterfalls, and filling numerous fountains that decorated larger public spaces. Yesterday’s showers had left the city clean. It truly was beautiful, commenting as much to my companions on more than one occasion.

We had walked for a short while when Inger grabbed my hand and led me through an archway to an open square with a view over the other half of the city across the main thoroughfare. From here, I could finally see a large expanse of the city and land. As my eyes followed the thoroughfare to my left and back to the palace, my mouth actually dropped from awe. 

_Kåre hadn’t been joking. I haven’t seen much of the palace_ , I noted as I took in the massiveness of it. Set against jagged mountains, the palace’s numerous golden spires rose high above the city, my neck craning to take it all in. 

“This is my favorite spot to visit,” explained Inger with a smile as she admired the scenery with me.

“I had no idea...,” I said more to myself than anything, eventually pulled from my wonder by Inger gently tugging on my cloak. 

“They have the most delicious pastries here,” she praised, pointing to the door of a shop set near one end of the square. Behind its large display window, a multitude of baked goods were artfully presented. I stopped in my tracks to admire them before I was pulled away to a quaint periwinkle blue door with elegantly painted golden symbols across it. They looked like more of the writing I’d seen in the books Loki had shown me, prior to his seidr translations.

There was a gentle hum of voices spilling from the establishment, Kåre giving a brief glance into the crowded bakery before choosing to remain outside. His rather large armored and armed self would not be a welcome addition. I grinned when I caught Inger promising to get him one of his favorites as I disappeared inside.

When she joined me and the entrance door was safely shut behind her, I wagged my eyebrows at her dramatically, giving her a slight nudge of my elbow.

“So when did that all happen?” I finally asked while glancing back over her shoulder to the closed door, my curiosity bursting to know any details Inger was willing to share.

As we waited in the sizable line that wound through the establishment, Inger happily spilled her guts to my enjoyment. It had been some time with the two of them making eyes and little comments to one another before Inger had finally taken the initiative and asked the guard if he was interested. In typical Kåre fashion, he had said very little at her confession but made his intentions clear by kissing her. I couldn't help but smile happily at the young woman's starry eyes as she described the scene.

"That was the day after we had your cake," she mentioned.

"Is that why you were upset with him that morning?" I wondered, recalling her uncharacteristic irritation with Kåre that day.

Her cheeks gained a pinkish tinge to them.

"I was envious. I wondered if he may have been interested in you," she admitted as we moved further along the line.

I looked at her with mild surprise, trying to think what would have given Inger that idea, but she was kind enough to elaborate.

"The two of you spend much time together," she explained, "and he appeared elated that morning when he spoke of the previous evening...and your cake."

"Ah," I said, giving her a nod of understanding.

"But when I addressed it with him, he gave me an odd look. And before I knew it, he was kissing me."

The romantic nature of it had me feeling warm inside, happy for my two friends. But then that voice had to comment, _Loki's not the romantic type, so don't hold your breath_. The weeks separating us after our night together had given me more than enough time to look at what we had--whatever that was--with a reasonable eye. And what I saw wasn't sitting well with me. 

Loki was not an ideal mate. He was bossy, controlling, and manipulative. And despite what interest we had in one another, he kept himself distant with his continual references of me being his pet and to "behave" as though I were some unruly child. I had no right to demand more from him--at least, I didn't think I did--but if things were going to continue, we'd eventually need to talk about...us. What we wanted from one another. And what we expected.

_Perhaps not being treated like a trained seal to begin with._

In the comfortable warmth of the happy little shop, the smell of bread in the air, and a friend at my side, I was content to fantasize. It was easy to be brave, to make plans to stand up to Loki when I saw him again. Despite the false feeling of having a backbone, I knew it would be another thing when we were finally face-to-face. 

"Is there anyone…?" quietly asked Inger, giving me a side glance, her question jarring me from my thoughts.

I was suddenly bursting to talk to her, to spill all of my questions and insecurities over Loki to a friendly ear. But I knew better. Loki was not just any lover. He was the prince.

"Who would be interested in a prisoner?" I asked jokingly with a slight grin, my well-known monitoring being a great excuse to avoid the subject.

We finally made our way to the front of the line, and after pressuring Inger to allow me to treat all of us for her kindness in inviting me in the first place, we took our tasty treats and rejoined our chaperone back out in the crisp autumn air.

Curious about the Asgardian food, I carried a bag with me of a variety of the bakery's goodies, some picked especially for Eir and the queen. As we strolled back into the city streets, Inger leading the way to the next location for her list of errands, we enjoyed our morning meal. Tearing off a bite, the taste of the simple braided bread I had bought had a familiarity to it. 

_Like my cardamom bread braids,_ I recalled with a smile as I chewed, a warm sense of nostalgia accompanying the memory. _Those always sold out._

My feet stopped of their own accord in the middle of crossing a busy street, Kåre returning to me when I hadn't joined him and Inger on the other side.

"Rune?" his voice questioned at my ear as I was gently pulled by the elbow, jostled by the crowd but eventually led to where Inger stood.

"Rune?" came the young healer's professional tone through my daze. "Do you need your tonic?"

I saw her reach towards the vial hanging at my neck, but I caught her hand and squeezed it reassuringly, focusing my sight on her.

"I'm fine. I just...remembered something," I explained weakly, my mind rocketing through every memory I could find that hadn't been there moments ago.

"Do you wish to return to Eir?" Inger had a serious expression, something she was adopting from her mentor's professional demeanor. I shook my head, not wanting to spoil the trip.

"It'll wait. Let's enjoy our morning first," I said cheerily, wrapping my arm through Inger's.

Though she seemed hesitant on whether it was in my best interest or not to continue on, the healer's concern evaporated when I started excitedly telling her and my shadow all about my little business back on Midgard. How I ran a small bakery that somehow did well. How I sold little loaves similar to the one I was currently enjoying, amongst other baked goods. How it made sense now as to why I missed being in the kitchens so much.

Inger kindly wrapped an arm around my shoulders, giving me a consoling squeeze.

"If your training goes well with the queen," she postulated for my benefit, "perhaps she will allow you to return to the kitchens if you should ask."

I hadn't considered that, the reward of returning to the kitchens immediately becoming a golden carrot, dangling just before my nose. As long as the queen agreed, of course.

The remainder of our morning was spent visiting a couple shops where Eir had placed orders for some more rare items the hall needed that the palace couldn’t provide. I was curious about some of the more oddly shaped packages, most wrapped in a nondescript beige paper and tied with string. By the time we made our way back to the palace, we all three had several packages oddly shoved beneath our arms or dangling from fingertips by their packaging strings.

We joined Eir in time for midday meal, and I filled her in on my returned memories as we ate our bowls of meat and vegetable stew. Eir took her notes at the table, her pen in one hand and her spoon in the other, knowing I would be busy the remainder of the day with the queen and unable to speak with her again until the evening. 

“And you say this bread triggered the memory?” she asked, giving an eye to the half eaten loaf at the center of the table. I had made it an addition to our meal, grabbing chunks to dip in the rich stew.

I nodded, reaching for the bag of baked goods I had brought back with me, pulling from it the strawberry streusel-type pastry I had chosen as a gift for the healer. It earned me a mild reprimand for wasting my pay on her despite the pleasantly surprised smile she wore as she spoke.

“I used to make a similar loaf around the holidays,” I reminisced as I tore another piece from the artfully crafted bread. 

With the promise to further discuss the matter at a later time, I gave a wave to Eir and Inger before making my way to the training yard with Kåre. When we arrived, the queen was already standing at the center of the courtyard, but she was not alone. Two armored men stood near her, holding a conversation. For a split second, I had the wild thought that the queen had brought protection against me for hurting her yesterday, my fear of my seidr ever-present in my thoughts when training was concerned. Her brightened face when she spied us approaching soon put my worries at rest, however.

“Rune, how was your trip into the city?” asked the queen kindly when we were within easy speaking distance.

“Amazing,” I said with a smile, holding out the bakery bag to her. “I brought back more than I had planned.”

After I filled her in on the morning as she enjoyed one of the tea biscuits I had gotten her--reminiscent of the ones she had offered me in her drawing room once before--she introduced the two officers who were watching me with mild intrigue.

“I wish to begin training you to hone your seidr skills,” Frigga explained as the officers headed towards the weapon rack, “and to adapt to your opponent. These two officers were generous to offer their time to aid in your training.”

I looked over to the two men who turned at the queen’s words to look back at me. I gave them a nod and thanked them as I joined them before the weapons, reaching to pick the short blade off the rack from between them.

“What do you expect to do with that bitty blade, _dauðleg kona_?” teased the slightly larger one who reached out to take the largest blade he could. 

Hearing the sneer as he said what had become Kåre’s friendly nickname for me had my temper flaring quick enough. I felt the now familiar flicker of my seidr lick along my spine as an unwarranted confidence took over.

“It’s not my blade you need to worry about,” I said as nonchalantly as I could, turning my back to their joined laughter as I made my way over to the queen, my shoulders pulled back and my chin raised. 

“Show them a thing or two, Rune,” whispered the queen conspiratorially in my ear, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze. The sparkle in her eye sparked my own lopsided grin.

 _Trust your seidr. It’s part of you,_ I reminded myself, recalling the queen’s advice from the day before.

I was going to listen to my body. I needed to listen to it. And as an excited anticipation began to build, my seidr warmly unfurling itself, I wanted to listen to it.

~ ~ ~

“This isn’t a game!” I yelled at Loki’s dark retreating figure, trying to get him to acknowledge that he could hear me. But he didn’t stop or slow as he turned corners swiftly, my harried pace only quick enough to let me see the back of him at another corner before disappearing around it.

The familiar stress of the chase had made its appearance, my anxiety at losing him in the foreign landscape of the hauntingly moonlit streets growing with every turn. My heart sank when I eventually came around a corner, calling out Loki’s name to echo off the walls of the empty alley. He had disappeared.

I turned on the spot, the way I had come now mirroring the dead end behind me, an infinite prison. After repeatedly turning on the spot, always faced with the same damp and dirty stone, I ran to one of the walls, slapping my hands against it in desperation.

“Loki! _Loki!_ Come out here!” I yelled as I continued my pointless tirade against the unforgiving walls.

Then, as though answering my call, a warm light spilled across my battering hand. A door creaked open behind me, spreading the welcome illumination. I turned to see a glow coming from a wooden door set into the opposite wall. Without much thought, only relief for an escape, I crossed the alley and stepped through it. Turning to close it behind me, I noticed that I had stepped through curtains instead of a door.

“Where’s me meal?” came a gruff voice from behind me.

I turned back to now see a man seated in front of a small table strewn with papers and various trinkets. His beady eyes were looking at me, but before I could answer, his eyes moved to my left, now following what looked like a young girl, maybe on the cusp of womanhood. She kept her eyes down as she approached the leering man, depositing a tray before him. But before she could withdraw, one of his unwashed hands grabbed the girl’s wrist to keep her next to him.

I moved closer to the two of them, watching the man carefully.

“Be a sweet thing and rub me shoulders,” he said with a loathsome smile that revealed a grotesque mouth of broken and rotting teeth. Letting her go, he gave her a groping pat on her backside as she moved behind him.

“ _I should kill you_ ,” I hissed at the man in revulsion, leaning across the table, so completely overwhelmed by my anger. 

But he didn’t react. Neither did the solemn girl standing at his back. Per usual, I was only a spectator.

But then the image seemed to freeze. Or at least the man and girl had frozen despite the continued crackle of the nearby fire.

I had only the slightest realization that the girl had a dagger in hand when the light from the flames glinted off its blade and into my eyes. Her other hand had taken a firm grip of his greasy hair. Rigid in his seat, the revolting creature’s eyes widened slightly as he felt the cold metal come to rest against his throat.

“Your petty grab for gold and glory has become a nuisance,” the girl flatly stated in the ear of the man, her tone bordering on boredom. In a painfully slow movement, she drew the blade across his throat, her eyes closing as she leaned slightly back. 

The blood squirted and poured from the clean, deep stroke, driving me back away from the table to check for blood on my clothes. There wasn’t a trace. When I looked back to the bloody scene, it had changed dramatically. The man was still bleeding, coughs and sickening wet gasps coming from his mouth as he struggled to breathe. The sounds were horrifying.

But the tall, black figure that had taken the girl’s place was softly smiling, his pleasure evident.

“You have stolen too much of my precious time,” he continued to inform the dying man, who slowly slumped forward to continue bleeding across his meal, pooling atop the various papers as it eventually overflowed from the plate.

Loki’s hand leisurely wiped the blood from his dagger on the grimy tunic of the man he had so calmly murdered. His eyes had become heavy, a headiness to them. It was a look I had seen before. I felt that creeping shiver run through me, my arms circling around myself in a protective hug.

And then I froze. Because Loki’s eyes had darted to me.

The man, the table, the warm fire light, any evidence of Loki’s brutality, everything had disappeared. Loki now stood in the center of nothing, seeing me clearly.

“Have you missed me, pet?” he asked, raising a hand to signal for me to come to him.

I couldn’t move, frozen in fear. I didn’t want to be anywhere near his deadly hands. When his eyes narrowed with irritation, I shook my head frantically.

He lunged quickly towards me, the sudden movement giving me only a second to open my mouth in terror, a scream tearing out of it just as his hands were about to take hold.

The scream rang in my ears, and I bolted upright in my bed. My hand was clutching my chest as I tried to catch my breath.

“Are you well?” came a hushed voice from the impenetrable black. I was aware enough to identify the unsure tones of Kåre’s evening replacement from the other side of my door.

“N-n-nightmare,” I called back shakily. It was enough to satisfy the guard’s inquisitiveness, though, as he questioned no further.

I fumbled blindly in the dark before finally managing to light my bedside lamp. Curled on my side beneath my blankets I stared at the small, comforting glow, allowing my heart to return to a more normal rate. I hadn’t realized how long I had been staring at the light until Inger’s morning knock jolted me out of my trance.

~ ~ ~

“No one can dance forever, _dauðleg kona_ ,” laughed the rather mountainous, armored officer who was slowly following my lead around the training yard. 

Many of the other observing officers laughed in agreement as I slipped behind the now nearly bare tree, a skeleton of its former glory. I laid my hand along the sleeping tree’s bark, waving my blade with the other to coax the large man to continue to follow me. With an interested grin, he bent to follow me beneath the bottom branches, just as I had hoped.

“You haven’t seen me dance,” I teased with a smile as two fingers of my left hand began a gentle tickle along the tree’s trunk. 

Like extensions of my fingers, two of the large branches whipped down to crack along the head, neck, and back of the suddenly yelping officer. I imagined his cries were more from surprise than pain considering his considerable protection, but when he finally retreated away from the dangerous whipping branches, I noted red streaks blossoming along one cheek and across the back of one of his hands.

“Bloody witch,” he said but with an awed tone of respect. The raucous laughs of the officers who hadn’t agreed with his earlier assessment of my “dancing” abilities filled the courtyard.

This had become my training over the past weeks since using my seidr for the first time against the queen. At first, she had brought the two officers who had laughed at me then, too. That was until I had roundly beaten them with my seidr stones, denting the chest plate of one, sending him off his feet and to the hard ground. They had yielded soon after that.

And each afternoon, new officers had shown up. My afternoon training had become something of a spectacle. Some were curious to watch while others were curious to test themselves against the _dauðleg kona_.

But the queen had been right. I was learning how to adapt to my various opponents. Though I rarely used it, my sword had found a permanent home in my hand. I moved more around the courtyard, often finding myself circling my willing combatants as though I were on the hunt. And I was more attune to my seidr than I had ever been.

But I still had little idea of how it really worked. 

The queen’s encouragement to listen to my instincts had led me to test myself in small ways at first, relying on my newfound seidr stones until I grew bored of them. Then I managed to whip up the dirt from between the stones in the yard, blinding my opponents to give me an advantage, sneaking around them, the point of my short blade finding the vulnerable spot at the back of their neck as they wiped at their eyes. The manipulation of the tree had only recently been a discovery when I had greeted the solitary thing days earlier, my soft caress of one of its branches resulting in the branch gently clinging as I pulled away.

_I wonder…_

And that was all it took in many cases, my willingness to try. My seidr seemed to have been waiting for me to call it to action because it was ready to do battle. 

“I believe it is time for a rematch, Rune,” came the soft tones of Frigga as the officers’ laughter died away. She stepped into the courtyard, her blade already in hand.

My heartbeat ratched up, adrenaline pumping through my veins in the space of her words. I hadn’t faced the queen since that first stone was thrown.

She had a kind smile as usual, but her azure eyes were sharp, following me closely as I slowly came out from under the tree towards the opposite side of the yard. 

“Take your tonic first,” reminded the queen. “Eir would never forgive me for being so negligent.”

Her concern was touching, but I had a theory I wanted to test. 

My seidr was still very present in my body, the initial flame of it when I manipulated the tree kept burning low in my abdomen. I had only secretly practiced a handful of times before this, trying to keep my seidr at the ready to see how long it would last before I needed my tonic. Afraid of pushing myself too far, I had only practiced this when people were present, around someone like Eir, Inger, or the queen who would know to give me my tonic should I pass out. But it had never come to that.

And now, my seidr was still merrily glowing, at my disposal. I smiled at the queen.

“I’m fine,” I said, planting my back foot with an audible crunch as I took my ready stance. Lifting my foot, I looked at the crushed cobblestone I had unwittingly pulverized beneath the ball of my foot. 

_Too much power in your stance. Lighten it_ , I thought as I reached out for wisps of my seidr, drawing them from my limbs and back to my center.

The queen’s head cocked slightly as she considered my answer and noted my misstep.

“Perhaps we should move this to a more open location,” suggested the queen, turning to walk away. “Please, follow me.”

She turned and left through a corridor I hadn’t taken before, leading the way as I, my shadow, and the dozen or more officers followed in the queen’s wake. The passage was long, at one point dipping down and winding until a bright autumn light revealed the palace grounds at the end of it. 

The beauty of the scenery had me pausing as the others continued to spill from the passage and follow the queen. The black, snow-capped mountains took up most of the horizon, an evergreen forest spilling from their feet to the palace. The small rainstorms we had recently had capped the mountains with the season’s first snows, but they hadn’t reached the palace yet. Their cold promise blew across the wilderness, however, buffeting my skirts around my legs. I gave a shiver, regretting not bringing my cloak to training. The enclosed courtyard had done well in sheltering us from the bitter wind. 

I wrapped my arms around myself oddly, my short sword held awkwardly as I tried to keep myself warm. I began to follow the rest of the party heading straight ahead to a large, relatively obstacle free patch of lush grass. Wide swaths of hearty grass took up much of the visible area to my right, only marred by the stone footpaths that disappeared into the encroaching treeline while another path wound to my left, cutting through a familiar-looking hedge with ferns spilling from beneath it. The skeletons of trees dotted the limited view above the hedge.

_We must be near the gardens._

The queen had come to a stop, and the officers had fanned themselves out to create a wall between the two of us. As I neared them, two stepped aside to let me by, closing ranks once I was through. I glanced back at them and noted that we had emerged near an elaborate stone staircase that led up to a type of veranda. 

“This is much better,” smiled the queen, taking a deep breath. “More room to move. Are you ready, Rune?”

Despite my slightly chattering teeth, I stepped to the center of our new sparring ground, turning to face the queen, the line of officers filling the right side of my peripheral view. I gripped the hilt of my blade, my left hand poised next to my hip. I could feel my seidr still burning low, and just to test it, I drew it to my fingertips, the feeling like crackling electricity zipping up and down my fingers.

I gave her a nod.

She moved quicker than I had been prepared for, charging towards me with her blade tucked innocuously behind her forearm. That was until the flash of it had me defensively swiping to keep it from impaling the center of me, my balance nearly lost as I hopped back. The queen took the advantage, spinning with the momentum of her parried blade and coming back around with another swipe across my center. I had only just adjusted my swing in time, clashing against hers once again.

I kept my left hand low and splayed to aid in my balance, but I hadn’t used it yet. And the queen noticed, her eyes flickering over to it before returning to mine. Something seemed to spark behind them. A dry swallow was my response.

Again, moving with a speed that genuinely left me confused, I felt more than saw her swiftly angle and spin her blade, slipping around my own with enough force to launch it from my hand. I saw the blade spin away, landing with a dull thud somewhere to my left. I raised my empty hands before me, acknowledging her successful disarming.

The queen didn’t look at my hands, however, her gaze locked with mine as she swiped her blade threateningly between us. I took a few steps back. But when a mischievous look reminiscent of her younger son curled her lips, I took another couple steps further back. An ominous sinking feeling had taken up residence in my stomach.

“Defend yourself, Rune,” said the queen before taking decided steps towards me, giving some threatening swipes to send me retreating.

I let my seidr blossom, radiating outward to fill my entire body. My eyes darted to the queen’s feet, her speed my enemy. My feet stopped, rooting themselves in a strong stance. Listening to my body, my instincts, I raised my hands before me, palms facing the sky before flipping inward towards one another. Though the movement was in my hands, I felt the seidr leave my body through my feet, creeping between the granules of dirt beneath the grass to fill the earth beneath the queen.

Her advancing steps were halted as Frigga sank quite suddenly, the once solid ground she had been advancing across churning to encapsulate her legs nearly to her knees, all in the moment of a breath. It wasn’t the sudden gasps I heard from our peanut gallery that had me stopping; no, it was the shocked expression on Frigga’s face that had me lowering my hands, the dirt settling around the queen’s now trapped limbs. 

“Are you okay, your grace? I’m so sorry!” I exclaimed as I ran over to her, offering her my hand for assistance. 

We were soon joined by a lot of rather disgruntled officers, some having drawn their own swords or lances, leveling them at me.

“I am quite alright,” reassured the queen though a bit breathily, taking my hand as she dislodged herself from the now ruined yard. Her dress was ruined as well, the lower quarter of it smudged with dirt.

Though the officers returned to their observatory positions, I noticed a ripple of discomfort running through the line of them as they shifted on their feet, many watching me with more caution than they had ever done before.

 _I scared them,_ the realization hitting me like a brick. As though it were true, I took an unsteady step sideways, something akin to being walloped by a brick hitting me suddenly.

“Your tonic,” advised the queen with some concern as she gripped my hands to keep me steady.

I managed to get the drop to my mouth despite having to keep my eyes closed; the world had begun to tilt on its axis in record time once I had stamped out my seidr. When the familiar hum had run its course to the tips of my fingers and toes, I chanced opening my eyes, meeting the queen’s questioning gaze.

“I’m fine now,” I assured her, giving her hands a gentle squeeze before releasing them. “I’m sorry for ruining your dress.”

The sudden, loud laugh that escaped the queen genuinely surprised me.

“You are a wonder, my dear,” she said as one of her hands reached out to cup my cheek comfortingly. “I am quite unharmed.”

“Lucky that I find you as such, my lady.”

The quiet though commanding voice had carried across the yard despite the gusting winds. The officers turned on the spot to face the direction the voice had originated, snapping to attention at the sight of Odin standing halfway down the stone staircase leading to the veranda. He was still clad in his armor and traveling cloak, his eye riveted to Frigga. While the king continued his way down the steps to join us in the field, my eye was drawn to the dark figure still standing at the top of the stairs.

Even from the distance, it felt like his eyes were burning through me, that tingling sensation running along the back of my neck, rubbing at it reflexively. As I stared unblinkingly at his eerily unmoving figure, the cold winds became awfully biting, my arms wrapping around myself as my teeth began to chatter. I could feel my breathing beginning to shallow.

_It’s the cold. Definitely the cold._

I felt the queen’s arm wrap around my shoulders as she leaned close to my ear.

“You have come so far, Rune,” she whispered. “Do not let him bully you.”

I met the queen’s eye. In that moment, I could see that she understood more than I had thought. But her warm eyes showed nothing but kindness and encouragement.

“Do you not agree?” she asked with a smile, squeezing my shoulder.

_I do agree._

Lifting my chin, I gave her a nod before turning to watch as the officers parted at Odin’s approach. Behind the king, though still observing me and his mother, Loki began to make his way down to us.

 _You’re stronger now. More in control. You can defend yourself, Rune,_ I thought in an attempt to boost my confidence. _You’re not a doormat. You’re not a pet. You’re a person. A per--_

“Frigga, my love.”

Odin’s gentle words and the absence of the queen’s arm had grabbed my attention in time to witness the king’s tender embrace of his wife, a kiss given fervently to each of her cheeks as she smiled and held his face in her hands. Their quiet exchange of deep looks had me dropping my eyes out of respect.

The moment was short lived, however, as Loki reached the officers.

“Considering how well you all performed at our last training session,” he said with a touch of arrogance, eyeing them as he passed through their line, “I am surprised you do not have more productive things to do with your time.”

With the humiliation of their utter defeat from well over a month ago made fresh in their minds, the officers silently disbanded, heading back to the passage we had emerged from earlier. Only Kåre remained, now at attention.

Loki, continuing his walk to us, had set his sight on me. I shivered again. Something about the look triggered that odd tingling along the back of my neck. It seemed...threatening. He was not happy.

But instead of averting my eyes as I might have done before the queen’s training, I now followed Loki carefully as he approached, the urge to ignite my seidr singing in my veins.

_Time to test that backbone, Rune._


	15. Ch. 15 - An Understanding

“What a pleasant surprise!” exclaimed the queen, thankfully interjecting herself between me and Loki before he got too close. 

I breathed a sigh of relief as he blinked to look at his mother who was now affectionately cupping Loki’s face with one hand as she smiled brightly up at him. He bent and placed a kiss of greeting on her upturned cheek.

“The palace groundskeepers will be none too pleased with your gardening decision, Apprentice Rune,” noted Odin, his piercing eye belying no humor as he gave me his attention.

I hadn’t seen or spoken to the king since our first meeting in the throne room, making his respectful addressing of me a surprise.

“I apologize, your grace,” I replied while giving a bow of my head.

Odin kept his eye on me but said nothing more.

“The blame lies with me,” spoke up Frigga, moving from between Loki and me to her husband’s side, resting her hand gently on his arm. “I thought it would have been best to avoid damaging a training yard during our spar. I had wished Rune to feel uninhibited, free to truly test her seidr.” 

The queen met my eye and gave me a genuinely proud smile, adding, “And she performed marvelously.”

The compliment from my mentor--for that’s what she had truly become--was overwhelming. So of course, I stared stupidly at the ground. 

“An entire training yard and officers at her disposal,” the king spoke observationally as I noticed him looking to the large circle of disturbed earth, “and your apprentice tears roots from the soil.” 

His eye returned to me. 

“It appears time I hear more on your progress, Apprentice Rune.”

Oddly, Odin’s piercing gaze wandered from me to his son, who was now giving his father a guarded look. I didn’t understand the silent exchange between them, but Loki somehow became even less pleased than he had already appeared. His mouth had become stony and his gaze dropped. Odin’s sharp eye returned its attention to me.

“We shall speak on the matter tomorrow,” declared the king in his reserved tone. “For the evening, I wish to enjoy a meal and lovely company.”

Gathering Frigga’s hand and winding it through his arm, he began walking his queen back to the palace veranda. I watched them for a moment, wondering if it would have been too awkward had I run after them. The embarrassment seemed preferable over remaining behind with the unhappy creature next to me.

Those pale eyes were now intently set on me, unsmiling and motionless. My antsiness getting the better of me, I reached down to gather up the queen’s sword where she had dropped it upon the happy reunion. 

“You are dismissed, guard.” 

Loki’s words had me straightening rigidly as I glanced over to Kåre who gave me the briefest apologetic look before turning and following behind the king and queen. 

When I turned to face him, Loki was still scrupulously watching me. Perhaps out of newly learned habit or perhaps out of preservatory instincts, I adjusted my grip on the queen’s blade, finding a more solid hold. 

Loki’s perceptiveness didn’t miss it, his lip curling.

“Have you missed me, pet?”

In no time, my heart was pounding furiously in my chest, the same rhythm it had beaten in my nightmare. 

_The dream… it was just a dream…_

Still, I couldn’t help but take a step away from him, glancing at his hands for a hidden dagger. The fear was unfounded. I knew that. But still…

He watched my nervousness with an air of intrigue, an eyebrow cocked with amused curiosity. His stance slightly shifted, an adjustment of his feet, a slight lowering of his head, and again, I took another step back. 

The appearance of that sharp look in his eyes--that excited glint he’d get at times--had me halting. My training to look for signs in my opponents-- _Is that what he is now?_ \--was telling me to stop retreating, despite my instincts.

 _Don’t give him what he wants. Don’t give him reason to chase_.

“I’m...relieved you’ve returned safely, your grace,” I admitted, the reservedness and formality feeling necessary with him in the moment. Letting Loki know how much he had been on my mind felt akin to offering a lion juicy meat in hopes it won’t sink its teeth in. I kept my eyes locked on his now cooling ones.

“Relieved?” 

He let the question of my word choice hang in the air. When I didn’t offer any further explanation, he questioned, “Was my pet concerned over my prolonged absence?”

The baited question went unanswered as I refused to bite.

“Was the issue settled happily, then?” I asked instead, trying to divert the theme of his questioning.

“ _Happily_ ,” he said with a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “for most. Once a nuisance was disposed of.”

_...“Your petty grab for gold and glory has become a nuisance”..._

I felt my old friend stillness lock my limbs as I couldn’t help but stare at Loki.

_He can’t mean… That was a dream. It’s just a coincidence, Rune._

Loki was back to a quizzical look as he undoubtedly was trying to figure out the reason for my odd reaction.

“That’s...good,” I stumbled out of my mouth. “No more...nuisance…”

My brain, in its infinite ability to torture me, conjured a vision of the bleeding, gasping man, the image shockingly vivid in my mind’s eye considering it had been a dream.

I turned away from Loki, not wanting to give my fear free rein in front of him. I hurriedly walked the few steps to my sword, still lying in the grass. My sudden need to return the swords to the training yard was of paramount importance, but when I rose and turned, I was hindered by a Loki-shaped impediment.

He had moved too close for comfort, but I wrestled the urge to retreat, looking up at him instead. His eyes languidly dropped down my body before resting on the swords, one secured in each of my hands.

“Now that I have returned, you will no longer need to entertain the officers with your...assets,” he said with a slight sneer.

The unsavory suggestion had my teeth clenching together.

“My _what?_ ” my voice going sharp on the last word, receiving a grin from his smug mouth.

 _He’s goading you_ , warned that other voice. _Don’t fall for it._

She was right. He was looking for a reaction, entertaining himself by ruffling my feathers, his enjoyment obvious. He leaned in a little closer, but I refused to flinch, returning his rather domineering look with my own determined one.

“You will no longer train with those buffoons,” he dictated with an arrogance I had only ever witnessed in Loki. It felt heavy, the weight of command behind it difficult to brush off. 

But not impossible.

The desire to tell him to bugger off was sweetly tempting. But I wasn’t going to let him have his fun playing games with me. I wasn’t going to kowtow to his unreasonable demands, either. The queen’s lessons had meant so much to me. And I owed her so very much for showing me my capabilities. The queen’s most recent advice, still ringing in my ears, had me standing a bit taller.

I raised my chin higher, looking at him as squarely in the face as I could.

“I will train with whomever the queen wishes,” I informed him though in a pitch a bit quieter than I would have liked.

Narrowing his eyes at my challenge, he moved closer, crowding me. I couldn’t stand it and made to take a step back, but his hand had already found the back of my neck, gripping tightly to keep me close. I balked slightly, pulling back but rigidly kept in place, nearly panicking at his sudden, overbearing presence.

“I see my time away has allowed your manners to worsen,” he spoke with a heated excitement, his breath running hot across my face, filling my senses with the delicious smell of him as he held my gaze. 

“Such disobedience,” he tutted with a slow shake of his head in disapproval. 

His other hand came up and ever so lightly stroked his finger down the length of my throat, coming to trace along my collar bone in a distracting manner. At the hitch of my breathing, the harsh hold at the nape of my neck released to let his fingers slither up, creeping among my hair. The shivers from his fingernails gently scraping along my scalp were a precursor to my demise if I let it go any further.

I knew what the familiar feeling was going to do; the harsh tug at my hair would elicit the dark sounds he enjoyed drawing from me. And despite my body’s craving to let him take that from me, to have his hands on me again-- _I forgot how intoxicating he can be_ \--my mind was determined to not go down without a fight. 

With only a desperate, half-formed idea flashing through my gradually fuzzing mind, it wrangled control of my hand, and I felt the tip of my blade meet a sturdy body.

Though Loki’s hands stopped their progress, it wasn’t out of fear as I had hoped. Instead, his teeth flashed from behind a wide smile.

“Are you going to run me through, pet?” he nearly laughed, a lick of anger burning in my belly.

At his lack of concern for the blade pressed to his armored abdomen, I slipped the second blade between our bodies, finding a home for its tip just under Loki’s chin. His smile didn’t fade, however. Nor did his hands, still paused in their progress. The sparkle of amusement in his eye was maddening.

“I’ve learned a lot since you were away,” I tried intimidating, taking steadying breaths as the sound of rushing blood filled my ears. 

“Pet has claws,” he teased in a low tone that had adrenaline thrumming through me. 

“Best beware them, then,” I warned, hoping my bravado sounded convincing.

Pushing lightly at his chin, his hands detached from me as he obeyed the press of my second blade at his armored torso, stepping away from me to my immediate relief. I didn’t let my guard down, however. Frigga had trained me better than that.

I moved left, making my way around Loki but turning to keep my blades facing him. He lowered his hands to his sides and watched calmly as I retreated from him, but his lips remained curled in a grin.

When I was a distance away that I felt safe enough, I lowered my weapons but kept a keen eye on any slight movement from Loki. He made no inclination to move, but his smile suddenly brightened to draw out the charming dimple in his cheek. It was both beautiful and unsettling.

Slightly irritated at how he could distract me with just a smile, I asked, “What?”

“Your insubordination and disrespect will need correcting,” he said conversationally as though there were no argument about the matter, gaining a scowl from me. “I was only reveling in the thought of marking that sweet, soft body again. And the beautiful sounds you will make for me.”

My hackles were up and raring to go, doubly so when I felt my face warm from my body’s traitorous blush. It was bad enough he felt entitled to do...that, but it was so much worse that my body responded with a tightening of anticipation low in my belly. 

_What is wrong with you, Rune?_

Not knowing how to respond and not wanting to give him anymore pleasure at my expense, I shot him a nasty look and turned, walking away with my head held high but still as quickly as I could. For the first few steps, I was sure he was going to grab me from behind, stop me. But when I made it to the long passage to head back to the training yard, I chanced a glance back. Like a carrion crow eerily still in the middle of a field, Loki had remained in the same spot, still watching as I turned into the passage.

Now with some space but my racing heart still sprinting, I quickly began to doubt my choice in actions. 

_He’s going to make you pay for that. You know that, right?_ said that annoying voice with a strong sense of giddy excitement behind it. 

I didn't want to think about it. The consequences were damned the moment I raised my sword to him. 

_He's definitely going to kill me._

An anxious tightening in my chest had begun. I needed a distraction. Soon enough, I was running back along the dark passage, the echo of my feet loudly reverberating off the stone tunnel.

When I finally exited back into the training yard, out of breath, the sight that met me allowed the tightness around my ribcage to unwind some. Three officers had remained to spar with one another.

"Anyone...want to...train?" I called out between breaths, giving them all a friendly smile as I moved across the yard towards them. 

Their movements stilled as they turned to look at me. None were particularly welcoming in their expressions, but I had come to accept that as normal for many of the guards.

"Anyone?" I asked again, waving one of my swords. 

The one nearest me, brandishing a long fighting staff, gave me a nod. I hadn’t had the pleasure of sparring with him yet, the novelty sparking some excitement.

I noted he was about Loki's size, perhaps a little wider, dark haired, but with hazel eyes. He would do well enough as a stand-in target for my frustrations. 

"I could teach you a thing or two," he boasted cockily, his fellow officers laughing. 

"Only one or two? Not the sharpest blade in the armory, then," I bantered back, the Asgardian custom when accepting a fight having become my own over the many weeks. 

The other two laughed again, but my opponent wasted no time, beginning to circle to my left. Keeping an eye on him, I leaned down to place the queen's sword on the ground near the barren tree. And in an instant, my seidr was awake and flooding to my now readily available hand.

I grinned at the man who had his staff lodged between his arm and chest, one hand lazily holding one end. I began to move to my right, circling as well until he finally stopped. In the time it took him to take two steps towards me, I had launched a stone with added seidr force behind it.

A loud splintering rang through the courtyard, followed by the sound of half of the officer’s staff clattering on the cobblestone. He looked at his broken weapon with ill-concealed surprise, and I took the advantage, darting forward. The half of his staff he still held swiped out between us when I got too near, sending me dodging back. It gave him the time he needed to retrieve the other half of his staff, giving some menacing swipes when he stood. 

Unwittingly, I had doubled my enemy’s weapons.

When he stepped towards me again, I let another stone fly, but this time, the officer batted at it with one of the more easily wielded shorter sticks. Another crack rang through the yard, reverberating off the walls along with my second stone. He moved in close with quick, sure steps, and I only had time enough to block one of his fierce downward swings with the short sword before feeling a painful smack to my outstretched left hand. It was immediately followed by a breathtaking blow to my middle.

I felt myself crumple like a ragdoll, hitting the cobblestone with my palms to catch myself, my sword clattering to the ground. It was swiftly kicked away by the officer’s boot. I couldn’t have cared less, though. The panic of being unable to breathe took up every brain cell in my moment of suffering, every thought focused on taking in just one breath. 

_Breathe! Breathe, damn it!_

The time it took for my body to remember how to function seemed interminable. So much so that I had enough time to notice across the yard the pale face emerging from the darkness of the passage I had just come from.

The spectre of Loki met my eye for only a moment before I felt the sweetly painful release of my stunned lungs, the air rasping back into my body before sending me into a coughing fit. When I glanced up to the officer who had stopped after the devastating blow, the ominous figure of Loki was already at his back. The sharp tip of a dagger pressed into the side of the unfortunate officer’s neck.

The cold, heavy-lidded look Loki was giving the officer had me throwing my hand out, a silent plea for him to stop as I tried taking another breath only to continue coughing. Thankfully, it was enough to grab the god’s attention.

“...do-on’t…,” I choked, waving my hand again.

Loki gave me his full attention then, a scrutinizing glare as I struggled to get back onto my feet.

“Inform the other officers,” came Loki’s deadly quiet voice from behind my now alarmed sparring partner, “no one is to train with my apprentice without the queen or myself in attendance. Any disobedience in this regard will be met with swift and severe punishment.”

I took another steadying breath, my ability to do so without struggle finally returning. I opened my mouth to argue, but Loki’s withering look and the tip of the dagger still pressed threateningly to the officer’s throat made me hold my tongue.

“ _Am I understood?_ ” Loki hissed next to the man’s ear, garnering an avid nod and muttered understanding from not only him but the other two officers who had become nearby armor displays since their prince appeared. 

Never releasing me from his gaze, the livid god waited for my compliance as well. Too afraid for the officer, I nodded. 

“Leave us.”

Relief coursed through my limbs as the dagger vanished followed promptly by the officers, abandoning the courtyard and their displeased prince with haste.

The dull ache in my midsection had me rubbing a hand over it while my other hand throbbed from the officer’s first hit. _Luckily, he didn’t break any bones_ , I thought, flexing my fingers tentatively. There would definitely be some soreness, however. I had been walloped a handful of times over the course of training-- _perhaps not quite so harshly_ \--so the uncomfortable sensation wasn’t exactly new.

Loki did little but watch my movements with a cold steeliness.

“We were only training,” I finally muttered after the awkward silence became too much. “You didn’t need to threaten him like that.”

When he didn’t respond, only continuing to look at me as though he certainly had something to say, I stepped away to retrieve the queen’s sword and return both blades to the weapons rack, avoiding Loki’s eye all the while. 

When my seidr fatigue finally became noticeable--the officer’s well-placed blow having extinguished it quick enough--I grabbed a hold of the rack for balance as I took the tonic. Once my strength was returned, I turned to face Loki once again. He hadn’t moved.

His silent moments had me imagining the gears in Loki’s mind whirling at top speed, plotting, planning, strategizing, none of which would be for my benefit.

"Are you going to say something?" I eventually blurted out.

It was the wrong thing to say. With a narrowing of his eyes, he closed the space between us quick enough. Taking hold of my elbow, I lurched as his vice-like grip yanked me back across the courtyard, heading towards another unfamiliar passage.

“No!” I said vehemently, pulling from him as best I could.

He stopped and spun me to face him. 

“We will sort this now, pet. You will come with me, willingly or not,” he threatened cooly, and he released my arm.

My mind was a terrified mess, a loop of, _Run! Run! Run!_

But I could see tenseness in his stance. He was ready for the chase, for the fight. I wouldn’t get far. Not if I only ran.

“After you,” he said with a wave of his hand down the passage leading to my certain doom.

_Not a chance._

I whipped one of my hands forward, aimed for his chest, my seidr at my fingertips in a flash. But they never made contact. A crushing hold was on my wrist, stopping my hand several inches from him before it was painfully wrenched behind my back. I was spun in the action, Loki wrapping his other arm tightly around me from behind, pinning my other arm.

“Let go of me!” I spat as my feet tried to find purchase while Loki swiftly and wordlessly dragged me back into the dark passage.

I opened my mouth to yell, but a hand clamped beneath my jaw, driving my teeth together as his fingers dug painfully into my cheeks. 

“None of that,” he scolded.

The sound I managed became muted within my throat as he maneuvered us through a narrow door that led to a servants’ staircase, a tight, winding set of stone steps.

He kicked the door close. I had a moment of freedom as his hands released me only to be quickly pressed forward into the door we had just come through, one of his hands squarely set between my shoulder blades. The unforgiving, armored length of Loki’s body was suddenly pressed at my back, keeping me pinned against the rough wood. His arousal pressed into my lower back, a low rumbling of enjoyment coming from somewhere in Loki’s throat.

Panicky, I pressed my hands against the door, delusionally trying to push myself off of it, but my insignificant human strength was no match for Loki. He may as well have been an immovable monolith at my back.

“How I missed your charms, pet,” he teased in my ear, causing a fresh round of fight in me, trying repeatedly to budge him from me but only succeeding in wriggling against him.

With no warning, my hands were roughly grabbed and pinned securely above my head, one set of long, binding fingers keeping them anchored, useless.

I called him a few unsavory names, and as a consequence, his hips pressed me harder into the door. My struggling only seemed to encourage him. 

Fighting my instincts, I made myself go still beneath him, concentrating on slowing my breathing, letting my arms hang loosely from his pinching hold. Though he didn’t retreat any, Loki settled as well.

“That is a good pet,” he condescendingly praised, the smugness in his voice infuriating.

My utter failure at challenging Loki with my weeks of training was a bitter pill to swallow. I had let Frigga down. I was only thankful she wasn’t a witness to my humiliating defeat...for more than one reason 

“You can’t keep me pinned here forever,” I challengingly hissed over my shoulder, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of admitting that he’d won. 

“True,” he conceded, nuzzling behind my ear in that tender spot. I heard and felt him take in a deep breath, a soft “mmm” coming from him.

“But the point of the matter was never whether or not I would keep you here, gloriously helpless,” he breathed quietly along the back of my neck, sending an unwilling shiver of pleasure through me.

I squeezed my eyes shut, concentrating on not letting myself enjoy it. The heat beneath my frock was already becoming uncomfortable, Loki’s warm body only exacerbating it.

“Will you come willingly, or shall I force the issue?”

I couldn’t find the humility to admit defeat. When I didn’t respond, he stated calmly, “As you wish.” 

A leather strap dangling from between his fingers passed before my eyes as he reached up for my wrists.

“No! No, I’ll go willingly. I promise,” I quickly pleaded, loathing myself as the words spilled out. 

Between keeping my hands free and not, there really was no debate in my mind.

"A wise choice."

And then his body was lifted from mine, my arms falling to my sides. 

I turned stiffly but refused to meet his eye, instead staring past him to the staircase. I heard a small huff of air, perhaps a laugh, escape him before he began walking up the stairs. I followed silently behind him.

The path Loki took was wholly unfamiliar to me, a network of servants’ stairs and narrow passageways keeping us out of the main corridors. Taking less time than expected, however, we emerged into the more lushly decorated corridors outside of Loki’s rooms. 

The usual guard stepped aside to let us pass. I kept my eyes forward, watching Loki’s back as he led the way down his darkened corridor. I hadn’t been near his rooms since he had left, and in that time, the wooden corridor had lost none of its ability to unsettle me. Or maybe it was just the fact that, complicit in my own jailing, I was following the god who planned on hashing out differences from inside my once-prison cell.

As we turned into the rainbow corridor and those alluring patches of multi-colored light came into sight, the desire to turn and run had risen to a noticeable degree that I stopped just before the first patch of light. Loki stopped one step after me, turning his head to raise his eyebrows in expectation.

Then, he stepped to the side, a hand held out to indicate I was to take the lead.

“After you,” he challenged once again, that tiny curling at the edges of his mouth setting my nerves on end.

To calm myself, I let my still carefully glowing seidr run to my fingertips. 

I stared straight ahead as I calmly went past him, my seidr warm in my palms. I didn’t hear his footsteps start again, but I didn’t imagine he would stay far behind. When I reached the door, I carefully took the handle, and similar to the feeling of manipulating the tree, now I was feeling for something else. 

_Can you detect seidr locks?_

I couldn’t note anything unusual in the split second I took to reach out with my seidr, so I pushed. The door opened with ease.

“One more step,” came Loki’s low voice from just behind me.

I jumped slightly and clenched my jaw in irritation, taking the last step back into my cell.

Though the room was filled with the warm afternoon light, it was somehow colder in here than it had been in the open field. Goosebumps rippled across my arms, wrapping them around me for a bit of warmth.

I heard the door click as it closed behind me. We stood there in silence for a moment, neither moving or speaking.

Loki stepped past me and through the sitting area to bend down before the fireplace. When he straightened, a crackling fire was burning. He took a seat on the side of the lounge nearest the fire before giving a pat to his thigh and a look to me for compliance.

_Are you kidding?_

I walked through the sitting area but gave a wide berth around Loki. Wedging myself between the opposite sitting chair and the fireplace, I remained standing as I warmed my backside, keeping my eye on the god.

“While it appears my mother has honed your seidr skills,” he commented irritably, “she has been too lenient in correcting your faults.”

“Your mother--,” but I cut off at the dark look Loki shot me. “I mean… The queen has done nothing but help me and encourage me. She has been an excellent mentor.”

“Did she encourage you to disobey commands?” he asked rather sharply, my body tensing at his tone. “Did she encourage you to put others and yourself at risk? Did she tell you to train alone with the officers?”

I could feel the anger building low in my stomach at his questioning list of my supposed faults.

“I’ve trained with the queen nearly every day for weeks,” I said lowly, trying to keep my voice calm. “I made it a point to learn as much as I could from her while you were gone. I never disobeyed a single order or disregarded a single suggestion she gave me.”

“And is she your only mentor, apprentice?” he asked simply. His serious expression, intense and focused, suggested it wasn’t a simple question, however.

“I did what you told me to do. I trained under her. I never removed this tonic,” I argued, holding the small vial up for emphasis, “just as you told me--”

“And you disobeyed my direct command not to leave the palace,” he interrupted.

_Damn._

I had nursed the small hope that, somehow, in some magical way, he wouldn’t have found out. It was silly for me to assume Kåre wouldn’t fulfill his assigned duties by the prince, even after confessing to them. Maybe I had been more hopeful that Loki hadn’t cared all that much, not a single other note of correspondence following the first one. That small hope had been very foolish.

 _Or maybe you knew he’d find out, but you’re only brave enough to defy him when he’s nowhere near to see it_ , antagonized that other voice.

She wasn’t wrong.

“The queen gave me her permission to go,” I continued to try to argue though a bit less assuredly.

Loki leaned forward slightly, the flicker of the firelight casting half of his face in darkness. 

“Did she command you to go?” he asked though he clearly already knew the answer. When I didn’t say anything, dropping my eyes from his, he ordered, “Sit down.”

I didn’t know how he managed to lace the words to sound like a threat, but my body apparently could tell as my legs carried me around to the front of the chair I stood near. I sat but just at the edge of the seat, the warning bells in my head telling me to stay on guard, my seidr still on standby.

At my compliance, Loki leaned back, taking a more relaxed position with one booted ankle crossed over his knee. 

“The only command you received was to not go to the city and put yourself and others in danger. You blatantly flouted it,” Loki went on. “Have our rules of agreement been forgotten?”

I hadn’t forgotten them. 

“No, your grace,” I finally said quietly. “But the queen wouldn’t have let me go had she thought I was a danger to anyone.”

Even if he was concerned about my ability to control my seidr, I had no doubt whatsoever that the caring, considerate queen would do anything necessary to protect her people. _How could he think she would let me go in public if I weren’t in control of my seidr?_

“You assume this is a question about your control,” he replied, his voice calm but laced with...something else.

“If it’s not a question about my control,...then what danger was there?” 

Loki uncrossed his legs to lean forward, his arms resting against his spread thighs, lowering his brow to watch me more closely. The sensation of my seidr sizzling beneath my skin was the only thing keeping me from retreating back into my chair.

“Do you understand why my father is so interested in speaking with you?”

Genuinely confused by the direction of the question, I silently shook my head.

“Your little performance earlier affirmed his suspicions of the threat you pose,” his voice gaining a hard edge to it. 

_Threat?!_

“What do you mean? Wh-why would he see me as a threat?” The words hurried from me as worry took root like a stone in my stomach.

Loki finally curled his lips in a half grin, sardonic and unfriendly.

“Word of the powerful human witch have spread far and wide since you began training with the queen,” his voice was low and menacing, an evident anger finally seeping out. “A rare prize hidden away in the palace of Odin Allfather. And enticed by the scent of fresh prey, the wolves are descending.” 

His anger seemed accusatory, and his unnervingly still body with his sharp eyes made Loki’s last comment feel a tad too accurate.

My hands were tingling from the nervous control I had over my seidr, the energy waning in and out. I pulled it back from my hands, sending it to glow near the worrying stone inside me.

“What wolves?” I finally asked, not sure that I wanted to hear anymore.

His curled upper lip, a slight sneer of derision, accompanied a tilt of his head.

“What an easy mark you would be,” he continued with his criticisms, “a weak, fragile mortal wandering through the city crowds. A distracted guard, an inattentive companion...and--”

He snapped his fingers, the sound making me blink. My fingers were gripping at the skirt above my knees, one of my heels beginning to bounce nervously. _He’s lying. Just trying to scare you_ , I thought in an attempt to calm myself. But I couldn’t be sure.

“Even if someone tried to...do that,” I argued, straightening to give an appearance of confidence, “I always have my seidr--”

My hands were shockingly pressed down into my knees in a sudden burst of weighted pressure. My eyes snapped up to Loki’s glare as he loomed over me, his fingers having latched themselves around my wrists, his palms pinning my hands beneath his.

“And what _exactly_ could you do, mortal?” he asked darkly, cruelly pressing down hard. The heavy throb in my battered left hand made me wince and take in a sharp breath. “Mere weeks of training and you believe you would be a formidable match against a warrior? A thief? A mercenary? Another seidr wielder who has spent hundreds if not thousands of years perfecting their own?”

All I could do was stare up at him, my eyes undoubtedly wide. Another hard press, this time only to my hurt hand, had me grunting in pain as I tried to wiggle my injured limb free. He didn’t let up, however, leaning over me to leverage his weight further. When his face was close enough for me to notice his distinct smell, the pain screaming from my fragile bones became too much. I gave out a quiet cry.

“Stop! Please, stop!” I begged, sure something was going to crack at any second, the crushing pressure threatening to damage. The heat and blur of tears welled in my eyes.

“If I chose to shatter these hands,” his voice had become smooth as glass, any hint of emotion chillingly absent, “what would you have then?”

The tears broke, warm splashes falling down my face.

“I’m sorry! I won’t disobey again! Please!” I cried desperately, his threat an all too real possibility.

The pain was gone. I gripped my hands together in front of my chest, massaging the left gently with my fingers while checking for any visual signs of trauma. 

Then, a warm hand cupped my cheek, and I froze. A thumb wiped at the tear trail along my cheekbone while his other hand joined in on the opposite side, an alarmingly gentle touch. I continued to play the part of a block of ice, unwilling to even raise my eyes to see what had become of his cruel anger.

“Your training is contingent on your obedience,” his voice falling from above, “and your obedience, at least in my father’s eye, is what is keeping you from a dungeon cell.”

I remained unmoving until his dark frame took a step back and lowered itself onto the lounge. I finally met his eye, which was serious but no longer threatening.

“I don’t understand why I would be a threat,” I said, wiping the remaining wetness from my eyes. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

Loki seemed to need to consider something before answering.

“You are weak and easily breakable. And as such, easy to manipulate,” he elaborated with a small gesture towards the hand I was still massaging. “Your considerable seidr power, something so easy to weaponize, and with a few pulls at your mortal puppet strings…”

He didn’t have to finish the thought. Though I thought better of myself, that I would never use my seidr to hurt others, at least not maliciously, I doubted my willingness to withstand much pain if it came down to it. Loki’s simple illustration had made its point clear.

“I didn’t know. I’m sorry.” 

It was a stupid response. I knew it wouldn’t excuse my rule breaking, but I wanted to voice it nonetheless.

“I do not want your apology, apprentice,” he said as he tapped a finger atop the armrest. “I demand your obedience.”

The unforgiving look he gave me had me shifting uncomfortably. It was a crossroads, a choice between refusing to do what he demanded or bowing my head in submission. _You can’t give it all up,_ argued that other voice. _Find your humility_.

It felt nearly impossible, to hand over my autonomy to the mischievous god. But then again, the idea of wasting away in a dungeon cell helped make the choice a smidge less unpalatable. I finally gave a small nod of agreement.

“I promise from here on to...not question your commands as my mentor,” the words feeling dry in my throat.

Loki didn’t react as he quietly observed me. Now seemed as good of a time as any to bring up my grievances, my slight bit of bravery driving me to voice his faults as well.

“However,” I continued, watching the god cock an eyebrow, “I will only obey as an apprentice.”

I paused at the slight pull at the corner of his mouth.

“Go on,” he encouraged.

“I am not some dog to be ordered to _sit_ , _behave_ , _good pet_ ,” I explained, raising my chin.

He seemed to consider my words carefully before speaking.

“As my apprentice, I expect your obedience,” his tone inconsequential. “But as my lover…”

He leaned forward once again, a spark of fire igniting in the backs of his eyes that had nothing to do with the one warming the room.

“...I crave your deference as well as your sweet supplications. The manner in which I obtain them matters little to me.”

“Well, it matters to me,” I stated irritably, crossing my arms over my chest and glaring across the space between us.

Loki only grinned at my prickliness, making me take a deep, calming breath to keep my smart mouth from running amok. His grin widened as he leaned back, taking a more relaxed position once again. He interlocked his fingers together beneath his chin in contemplation.

“Suffice it to say, I am accustomed to getting what I want,” he finally stated, getting a wary side glance from me that had him smiling in a flash of teeth. “I am set on having you, so I am willing to barter. Exact your price.”

If I could have shot daggers from my eyes, Loki would have become a pincushion. _He thinks he can buy me?_

“My self-respect is not for sale,” I said waspishly.

“Everyone has their price, pet.”

My anger flaring, I stood immediately at the nickname, but Loki rose just as quickly, watching me with an edge of excitement.

“I thought we already established your pathetic weakness,” he purred threateningly. “But if you wish to dance, I will happily oblige.”

“You can kiss my ass.”

The words left my mouth without thought or care. He seemed to freeze in time for just a moment before his eyes narrowed slightly.

“Oh, there are many things I would take pleasure in regarding your backside,” he suggested darkly, and I felt my body traitorously respond with a clench.

Embarrassed, I felt my cheeks warm. _Damn_. I quickly turned to my right to move away from the fire and Loki, but I managed only one step. His pinching fingers were at my elbow again.

“Get off,” I said as I tried to pull my arm out of his painful grasp without turning my face to his.

But of course, he didn’t let go. That was something I could depend on, his irritating insistence. I felt him pull me closer. His other hand grabbed my jaw, demandingly turning me to look at him. I glared back as he looked down his nose at me and my burning cheeks.

“You cannot hide your interest in me, pet,” his voice seductively low. “Your body betrays you.”

“I don’t want you,” I tried saying as coldly as I could with his hand still wrapped around my jaw.

He only grew an unsettling grin.

“Though your obvious lies are amusing, they will not serve you well when you are mine,” his harsh hold on my jaw disappeared, his fingers slowly inching their way down my throat.

The touch was soft but purposeful, my breathing deepening in reaction. His eyes flashed to mine before continuing to watch his hand drop further. But then it felt as if it disappeared. When I looked down, I saw the thin necklace holding my vial wrapped around the god’s fingers. Only then did I notice his other hand had finally let go of my elbow. The pull of the indestructible chain at the back of my neck kept me close to him, my breasts nearly pressing against him with every breath.

“What do you wish for? Name it,” he spoke quietly.

I remained silent, obstinately refusing to go along with his wheedling.

He didn’t seem perturbed, however, searching my eyes for small hints at what could matter enough to me to give in. It was a clearly calculating look, and I smiled back at him.

 _Ha!_ I thought with satisfaction. He couldn’t convince me if he didn’t know what to offer, and the relief in knowing that washed through me. I could feel myself stand a bit more confidently.

My change must have registered, his head tilting slightly as he continued to scrutinize my face.

“I do not believe fripperies would tempt my pet. No, nor perhaps even wealth,” he considered aloud for my benefit. “What does my pet long for then?”

To be honest, I didn’t know what I would have said had I even cared to truly consider his offer. _Respect? My freedom?_ But then an idea struck me, and I gave Loki another wide, satisfied smile.

“My memories,” I demanded.

“Very smart, pet,” he praised as he smirked at my response. “A solemn vow to assist you in any way possible would not be sufficient enough, I assume?”

I gave him a slow shake of my head, my mouth curling at the satisfaction of having one over on Loki for once. Disappointingly, the god only smiled back, unruffled by my smug rejection. His eyes dropped to his hand, still holding me close by the chain he had given me. He gave a gentle tug, my body swaying slightly. 

A contemplative “hmm” came from him before I heard the chain unravel from his hand, the insignificant weight of the nearly empty bottle falling against my breast.

He didn’t raise his eyes to mine when next he spoke.

“I could teach you how to make more of this,” he offered.

He moved his hand down the back of the chains, the vial coming to lay in his hand. I watched as his fingers closed around it, and for a horrifying moment, I thought he was going to crush it. The once familiar feeling of dread and helplessness at not having my tonic returned in full force, and I looked up at him with probably more fear in my eyes than I would have wanted him to see.

“Would you like that, pet?” he asked, finally raising his pale eyes to mine.

 _I’d never have to worry that he could just take it away again at any moment_ , the thought giving me an instant sense of weight lifting from my shoulders. 

_But that would mean…_

Though Loki watched my face carefully, a pleased smile pushed at his cheeks.

“I haven’t said anything yet,” I snapped in an attempt to wipe the grin from his face.

“But you are considering it, are you not?” he pointed out more so than questioned.

 _Well, that win was short lived_ , I thought dryly. _Why does he always get the upper hand?_

“Considering isn’t accepting,” I argued peevishly.

His fingers unfurled, letting the tonic drop back to my chest, unbroken but a reminder of what I had come to rely on. It was a millstone around my neck.

“I could teach you how to make many others as well,” he tantalizingly added, backing away now to take his seat on the lounge again. 

He looked up at me, eyes innocently wide as he waited for my response. I didn’t trust it for a second. There was nothing innocent about his offer.

But it was tempting.

After a quiet moment, I returned to my seat. That fire was back behind his cool gaze.

“ _If_ I chose to accept,” I said, emphasizing it was not a done deal, “what would you want from me?”

“You would be mine, pet,” he said as though that should have been clear.

“But what does that mean?” I said more quietly, slightly nervous about what he wanted.

With a stillness that made him eerie at times, he held my gaze.

“That would mean if I instruct you to remain in the palace, you will do so. If I want you to sit on my lap,” he elaborated, “you will perch yourself upon my knee. And if I demand you to refer to me as _my prince_ , you will say it with honey on your lips.”

I could only blink in response. He had said each scenario in as calm a manner as though he were discussing ordinary facts like the sun being in the sky and the earth lying beneath our feet.

“That and much more is what I want from you, pet,” he stated clearly.

In as much as I could trust Loki to be honest, I had the feeling he was being as honest as he could allow himself.

“I wouldn’t always obey you,” I tried being honest back, knowing myself and how Loki got on my nerves more times than not. “I would fight you at times.”

Those tantalizingly infrequent laugh lines appeared at the corners of Loki’s eyes as he gave a hearty chuckle. The genuineness of it made me smile back at him, helpless to do otherwise.

“It will be a losing battle from the beginning, my pet,” he said with a warm smile.

“We’ll see about that,” I muttered.

“Will we?” he breathed, a crooked grin curling one side of his mouth as his eyes darkened from his heavy lids.

I looked away, swallowing nervously. _What am I thinking? Is the tonic worth it? Worth handing myself over to Loki?_ I was very aware how stupid this decision could turn out to be. To make such an agreement with a god, let alone the god of lies. _This is insane!_

 _And you can’t wait to see what will happen_ , teased that other voice knowingly. _Stop pretending the prospect isn’t exciting_.

I wouldn’t have to deny that anymore, my darker attractions to him. I could just give in for once. The temptation felt like a warm wave rolling over me as I looked at Loki, patiently watching. _That patience will probably be little seen after this point_ , I thought soberingly.

I glanced down at my idle hands, unthinkingly folding my skirt into a pleat and smoothing it out again and again. The glint of the firelight on the small tonic bottle caught my eye, a reminder.

“As long as you teach me how to make tonics, including this one,” I said as I held it between my fingers, quickly adding, “And I can still train with the officers! Then...I would agree.”

“To be mine,” he said, clearly wanting me to repeat after him.

“To be yours,” I responded, meeting his eye finally.

He was unreadable, his eyes having a shuttered appearance as though he felt nothing in particular. I felt my heartbeat pick up slightly. He was playing careful. I didn’t care for the unease it gave me.

“Do we have an understanding, pet?” he asked, that same blank expression staring blandly back at me.

I nodded.

“Say it,” he demanded, a hardness creeping into the two small words.

I swallowed before barely managing to say just above a whisper, “...we have an understanding...”

“Come here.”

It was a command. I took a breath before standing up slowly. I took the first step towards him and saw the creepy grin that pulled at his lips. It did not bode well. And my sense of flight became too much, his hungry look making me shake. I stopped.

“Pet?” he intoned, dropping his brow in warning.

I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t just give him what he wanted. Every cell of my body was screaming to deny him. 

Not out of fear, however. No.

It was a scream of pure terrified excitement.

I took a step back along the lounge, my intent to leave the sitting area quite clear in the small change of trajectory.

His face broke into a toothy grin, but those eyes were blue fire in a flash. I saw the slightest twitch in his shoulder, and I was turning to run. Turning was all I had managed before the painful pull on my hair had me doing little else. 

His arm snaked around my middle, tightening like a vice. The feel of his warm, hard body against my back had me heated to a fever pitch. I let out a gasp when he yanked my hair to tilt my head. I heard him take in a deep breath.

“My memories of your smell,” he paused to take another breath, this time nuzzling into my neck, sending my breaths into hushed, sporadic pants, “they pale in comparison.”

His head dipped further, and when I felt the tips of teeth at the juncture of my neck and shoulder, I grabbed at his iron-like arm around me. The pain was alarming, sending me bucking into him until I couldn’t take it anymore. I let out a cry of pain.

His bite didn’t relent, but it was accompanied by a guttural groan against my flesh still clamped in his mouth. The effect was instantaneous, a throb of wet heat shooting through my center as I dug my nails into the sleeve of his leather coat. When his teeth finally released me, I sagged slightly with relief.

“Your delectable sounds, as well,” he noted.

We were moving, then, his body propelling mine forward to the end of the lounge. He turned us, pressing my thighs against the curved armrest. He gave a small tug to my hair still tangled in his fingers, his breath warm along my ear.

“I desire more.”

His pinning arm moved to my waist as my head was pressed forward, bending me over the arm. It was swift and powerful, my hands landing on the seat to catch myself. His hands gripped my hips supported by the armrest, pulling me back into him, his hardness eagerly pressed against me.

I could feel my skirts being lifted and a sudden coolness as he exposed my undergarment. Then those were gone, pushed down my thighs. I stopped breathing as I felt nothing but the still chilled air of the room.

I registered the sound of the crack of flesh on flesh before the prickling sting reached my brain. I whipped my head to look back over my shoulder just as another searing handprint was left on my other cheek to match the first. My breath left in a hiss between my teeth. And when he landed the third swat, I immediately tried to straighten myself, to get away from his hands.

His demanding grip was in my hair again, pulling my head up and back so that my hands could do nothing but support myself, my arms locked to keep me steady. I was distracted by the pain rippling through my scalp at his unforgiving hold until there was a slight prod between my folds.

“Let me hear you, my pet,” he warned, “and perhaps I will consider leniency.”

The grip at my hip had me wincing, but it was nothing compared to the searing stretch as Loki entered. I clenched my teeth, trying to lean forward onto my toes, my fingers balling into my palms still pressed into the cushioning of the lounge.

Loki was swift to pull me harshly back by the hip, plunging into me with a singular, forceful thrust.

The cry ripped from my throat was high pitched, pitiful. Through the dulling of the initial pain, I heard Loki’s chested groan of pleasure. 

_The sadist is here to play_ , I bemoaned while that other voice was a silent but avid observer. 

And as though on cue, he landed a harsh hand on one cheek. I bucked, clenching painfully around him. I gave a muffled whimper, the pain somehow blooming sparks of pleasure around it. I heard Loki hiss, a hand petting the length of my lower back, before telling me, “Good pet.”

Somehow, the humiliating treatment seeped far enough into my mind to make me turn to glare at him over my shoulder.

He grinned as he dragged himself out, my back arching, groaning lewdly when he sank back in. The god gave a feral sound before jumping mid-gallop into a punishing pace.

I seemed unable to do anything but make the strangest sounds, high pitched cries, turned to breathier pants, turned to pathetic whines. Another burning hand landing on my now sensitive backside seemed to shoot through me, a sudden darting bolt of electricity drawing out a moan. 

“There she is,” grunted the god as he landed another smarting swat, the resulting thrill of painful pleasure drawing out another unstoppable groan of pleasure. 

The small kindling of fiery warmth between my legs was stoked rapidly as Loki continued his assault. And in the short time it took to turn into a wildfire, my grunted moans had picked up in pitch. Slightly mortified, I bit my lip, trying to hold back as I was rocketed towards that pleasurable peak. 

Loki was having none of it. His hand was in my hair again, pulling my head back as he grunted with determined concentration. 

“Give it to me,” he commanded, his fingers digging sharply around my hip, yanking me back with every thrust.

I broke, the white nothing filling my brain as I arched, stiffening and shattering around him. I moaned in exquisite pleasure as Loki continued pumping into my clenching, quivering body with determination to make it last. When my arms and legs began to shake, Loki released my hair, allowing me to collapse down onto the seat as his hips slowed. I felt myself give small quivers here and there, hypersensitive to every movement as he now languidly drew himself in and out, his hands grasping a cheek each as he spread me.

“You are a delicious sight, pet,” he said appreciatively.

I gathered my breath as he continued his gentle strokes. His hands began to wander, his fingertips gliding over my hip, down a thigh, across my lower back. The almost ticklish sensation making me shiver and twitch.

I felt Loki lean over, his body curling over mine, his hands coming down on either side of me. I turned my head to the side, twisting slightly to watch him dip down and kiss the back of my shoulder. His eyes caught mine.

“For obeying so well, pet,” he said, dropping another kiss on my shoulder as he ground his still unsatiated arousal into me, “I will not beat you too severely.”

He couldn’t help but grin as my once jellified body stiffened beneath him. 

_The sadistic bastard._


	16. Ch. 16 - No Idle Promises

“ _ No _ ,” I said indignantly, a heated declaration of rebellion.

The challenging smile on his face suggested I didn’t have a choice. He ground into me again, pulling a small muffled grunt from my throat. He was either trying to entice me or declare his dominance in the matter. Whichever it was, it was clear he wasn’t taking me seriously.

I tried turning further over to face him more clearly, but with his hips holding my lower half in place over the armrest, I managed only a slight adjustment to look him more squarely in the eye. I didn’t smile, my desire to be heard as clear as I could make it.

“No,” I said soberly, adding a shake of my head.

His own grin seemed to harden into something rigid. His eyes shifted to my neck briefly before I felt the chain rub along the sides of it as one of his hands pulled the chain back. When the vial met my throat, Loki wound his fingers down the chain, tightening it around my throat just enough for my breathing to start stuttering from the slight nervousness running through me.

Loki raised a questioning eyebrow as the small bottle’s coolness lay against my throat. 

A reminder of what he’d owe me. 

A reminder of the understanding we had both come to only moments earlier…

_ Is it worth it? To be free of relying on him for the tonic?  _ With Loki's current hold on me, it took little time for a response to come loudly to the front of my mind.

_Of course, it would be worth it. To get that bit of control over my life. Over myself. Over one aspect of my circumstances._ _Definitely worth it._

My determination settled heavily into my center, a stony reminder I could cling to during whatever I was about to force myself into enduring. I had nothing else to fight him with as I accepted my fate at Loki’s hands--my submission for more autonomy. 

_ Does that make any sort of sense? _

Loki had remained still, buried inside me, looming over, watchful of any slight signs flitting across my face. Settling on the only course of action I knew full well would please him--with a desperate hope that he would be kinder, gentler as a result--I looked up at him with truly pleading eyes. It took no acting on my part, my desire to make him happy in order to forgo more punishment very much alive, evident in my body’s currently nervous shaking.

“...no...please?” I pleaded quietly, the shaky breaths making it sound more pathetic.

Loki tugged at the chain, raising my head slightly, just enough to make me uncomfortable. Leaning in closely, his weight now resting more heavily across my lower back, gloriously pressing into me, he gave a soft tutting in my ear. 

“ _ A losing battle from the beginning _ ,” he reminded me, the words sounding as menacing as the hiss of a snake.

I shivered against him, the sensation causing me to pulse hungrily around him.

With his more godly speed, the warmth of him was removed from my skin, but Loki still held the chain around my neck, bringing me up onto my hands again as he pulled it taut. Then, I felt him pull out, leaving me with a dull twinge at the empty feeling he had left behind.

“Stand, pet.”

Righting myself, the seidr tonic left my throat, finding a home back between my suddenly bare breasts. I turned to look at Loki, his body bare as well.  _ At least my dress will survive _ , I thought dryly. 

I glanced down to see his arousal on full display, wet but plainly unfinished. The urge to reach out and take him in hand overwrote my sanity, but my eagerness was painfully stopped, Loki’s unfriendly grip along my wrist making me wince.

“You deserve no such reward, pet,” he sneered down at me before abruptly spinning me sideways and pulling at my wrist, forcing my arm over his shoulder. “Only obedient pets are allowed to play.”

I couldn't stop myself from rolling my eyes.

His shoulder beneath my hand dipped as he bent down. I was confused for a moment before one of his iron arms landed behind my knees, sweeping me off my feet, his other sturdy arm supporting my back. 

"No!  _ No! No-no-no _ ," came tumbling out of my mouth in instant fear.

Despite Loki’s apparent ease at handling my body, I grasped at his shoulders, pulling myself tighter against him, too afraid of being dropped to enjoy the feel of his skin beneath my hands and along my body.

“You don’t have to carry me! I can walk!” I frantically pointed out, but Loki remained stationary, securely cradling me in his arms with an arrogantly self-satisfied look on his face. 

_ Or keeping me from bolting more like it _ .

His amusement soon faded into cold irritation as he eyed me.  _ What did I do now? _

“You allowed my brother to carry you. And you would deny me?”

The odd accusation was enough of a surprise that I momentarily forgot my fear of being dropped and looked at Loki with confusion.

“Thor?”

His brother’s name was not the right thing to say, the loathing evident in the god’s hardened look. I had only been around the golden prince a handful of times.  _ When did Thor ever… Oh! _

“Do you mean when I passed out after being found in the gardens?” I asked with little attempt to hide my disbelieving tone. “I didn’t  _ allow  _ him to carry me. He just  _ did _ ...when I fainted.”

“It is of no matter to me,” came the distinctly ruffled words of the god.

_ He’s...jealous?  _

His obvious displeasure at the existence of Thor having ever held me coupled with the blatant lie was too tempting to pass up.  _ If I’m going to be punished anyway, why not have some fun?  _

“We both know that is a lie,” I moronically teased my soon-to-be tormentor, unable to keep myself from smiling as I said it. I followed it up with a disapproving tut as I shook my head in mock disappointment.

The glare he gave me could have knocked me over with its intensity had I been standing. It was enough to make me still in his arms. Loki’s fingers seemed to grip rather harshly at my skin, his arms slightly crushing me tighter against his chest. That creeping sensation at the back of my neck triggered, and I reached up to rub at it awkwardly. Unable to wipe my smile from my mouth, however, I chose to stare at the ticking in his jaw.

“Enjoy your amusement while you are still able, my dear pet,” he threatened darkly, his warm breath at my ear.

He began to move, heading in the direction of the bedroom, me gently swaying in his arms. And with every step, I could feel the fear and anticipation building low in my belly.

Depositing me to my feet at the foot of the bed, he turned me to face the bed before telling me to, “Stay.”

I didn’t move a step, but I flashed him a nasty look over my shoulder. He ignored it. The sound of him closing the bedroom doors behind us was the only indication I had of his actions, and with that sound, my general fear of Loki had returned in full force. The seidr lock was undoubtedly still present. And the very reality that I was locked in with a god set on punishing me resulted in my nerves sending quivering shakes through me.

“So...should we call it a day?” I asked half-jokingly and half-seriously to the quietness, my arms wrapping around my exposed chest as Loki’s silent presence behind me only added to my anxiousness.

“Your levity in the face of impending pain is admirable,” came his voice over one shoulder as his hands came to rest on my hips. “I shall be curious to see how long your humor can last, my pet.”

I could feel his heated arousal along my lower back as he propelled us forward until I was up against the bed.

“Would you like to make a wager?” he asked. “How long do you think it will take before you break for me?”

My familiar foe of stillness settled over me as I struggled to keep myself breathing regularly, the urge to not breathe feeling so necessary in the moment.

His hands began to slide their way up my sides, taking their time to feel every curve and dip. Slipping beneath my hands that fell limp at my sides, his searching fingers finally crawled forward to cup each of my breasts, squeezing and palming in a massaging manner. When I felt Loki’s chest along my shoulder blades, I leaned back into him, letting my head rest against his shoulder.

“So soft,” he murmured into my hair, “Perhaps only five lashes?”

His fingers had begun rolling the peaks of my nipples, pulling a muted noise from the back of my throat. He gave a sharp pinch. I arched into his hands, wiggling back against him. It was a wonder how he could threaten to hurt me and have me wanting him the very next moment.

“How about...no lashes?” I suggested between breaths.

Loki continued his ministrations to my aching breasts as I continued my writhing.

“You do have that stubbornness, do you not, pet?” he observed conversationally, my body apparently doing little to affect him. “Seven lashes, then.”

The teasing was becoming maddening. Loki merely continued, my legs now beginning to squeeze and rub together as I needed more. I had been aware of keeping my hands at my sides so far, but one finally wandered its way behind me. In the brief seconds my fingertips felt Loki’s abdomen tighten, I knew I was treading thin ice. 

_ Always so cool, so in control _ , I thought, wanting to get under his skin as he had mine.

“Ten,” was all I said before his hands were at my wrists again, tight enough to make me try twisting them to allow some relief. None was offered.

“ _ Brave pet _ ,” he growled in my ear, “or overconfident.”

He raised my arms above my head to the wooden top of the bed’s uncurtained canopy. My fingers were just able to wrap over the top as I stood on tiptoe.

“If they leave their current position, I will strap them there,” he warned cooly before instructing, “Kneel on the bed.”

His hands rested on my hips as I maneuvered onto the end of the bed, the warm furs offering comfortable cushioning.

“Spread your knees.”

His hands continued to keep me balanced as I finally got to the position he wanted, a decent spread just wider than my hips, my feet dangling off the bed. The need to hold onto the wooden canopy was clear.

“What do I get if I win?” I asked conversationally, deciding the best coping mechanism for what was about to happen was to deny reality. 

_ You just need to last for ten lashes, Rune. Seven, actually. That'll be...nothing. _

I felt Loki slip something around my lower thigh, just above my knee on my right leg. When I looked down, I saw his hands tying a supple strip of leather snuggly around my limb before moving to anchor it to the nearby bedpost. The realization that I was going to be strapped in place hit me heavily, making me quickly lightheaded. I began taking in deep breaths to calm my increasing fear.

“What do you wish for?” he asked as he moved to my other side.

“Ooh...um, you know...something nice,” I rambled as I hypnotically watched him restrain my other leg in the same manner.

That actually got a smile from Loki, and for a moment, the tightening ball in my stomach released.  _ Maybe he won’t be too hard _ , I thought with wild abandon.

After placing a soft touch of his lips alongside my thigh, he asked with amused curiosity, "And if you break before seven lashes?”

“How about a congratulatory handshake?”

He actually laughed at that one, and I felt my body give a sigh of relief.  _ He won’t be too mean if he’s in a good mood, right? _ the thought flitted through my mind like the temptation of a breeze on a scorching day.

Loki moved out of my vision then, disappearing somewhere behind me. My fingers tightened around the wood in my hands, preparing for him to strike without warning, but soon his hand came up to remove my left one from the canopy. I glanced at him over my shoulder, but his eyes were glued to my hand, his thumb rubbing over the now blossoming bruise from my earlier training defeat with the officer.

“You will never train with the officers again,” the repeating of his disregarded command revealing Loki’s determination to get exactly what he wanted. And based on his past successes where I was involved, he was good at getting what he wanted.

But I wasn’t about to give up my training.

“Not going to happen,” I said, turning back to face forward, determined to keep my word.

He raised my hand back to the canopy, wrapping his fingers over mine in a tight hold.

“We will see, my pet.”

The impact of his hand on my right cheek was something powerful, my hips jutting forward from it, my hands now strongly gripping to keep me upright. When his stinging hand landed in the same spot again, I let out a breath through my gritted teeth.

The third swat to the exact same spot had me cursing.

“That mouth of yours is one of the numerous reasons you find yourself in such a position,” he noted before landing a fourth swat to the burning skin.

“My mouth seems to be a problem only for you,” I said as snarkily as I could.

Loki landed a fifth smack, which had me huffing slightly in pain.

“Then best you rectify the problem with whom it matters.”

He landed two severe swats to my unblemished cheek, the relief of attention to the one cheek quickly eclipsed by the building stinging on the other. He landed a third and fourth in the same quick repetition, evoking a “son of a bitch” from me but in a stifled whisper, receiving a fifth for my effort. 

But I had done it. That was ten.

I felt my shoulders relax as I took a relieved breath.  _ That wasn’t as bad as I thought it-- _

Loki had continued, adding two more swats to the cheek he had first given attention. The surprise and the growing burning sensation made me yelp indignantly, glaring as best I could back over my shoulder. The god seemed to understand as he scoffed before adding another set to my other cheek. As I gritted my teeth, doing what I could to keep from calling him a slew of names, I felt one of his hands gently run down the length of my back, the soft caress making me slightly arch. My entire body felt hypersensitive, a feeling of mild electricity following the path of his fingers.

“We have only begun, pet,” and with those damning words, he continued his alternating assault on my backside.

After surpassing another dozen hits, I gave up on counting. My muscles had become tightly wound in my entire body, and all I could manage to do was bite down on my lip and muffle my pained grunts.

“Disrespectful,” he marked with another branding of his hand. I swallowed the words I wanted to spit back at him.

“Disobedient,” he continued calmly, but this time the punishing hit got a slight cry from me. It did not stop him.

“Do you deserve this, pet?” he cooed in my ear, and reflexively, I shook my head in denial. Another few agonizing additions to what felt like a roaring fire behind me had me yanking at the wood in my hands in pointless struggle.

“Do you deserve this, pet?” he asked again, but when I didn’t answer, the next blistering hit had me throwing up the white flag.

“I deserve it! I deserve it!” rushed from my mouth. I just wanted it to stop.

My head was yanked back painfully, and Loki was at my ear as he looked down into my now pleading eyes.  _ You did more than ten, Rune! You did it. Just tell him what he wants to hear. _

“What do you deserve?” he asked quietly.

“I deserve this punishment,” I rattled off to him, searching his pale blue eyes for some hint of his hearing my plea. I was met with that hidden flame of excitement instead.

“Why do you deserve to be punished, pet?”

“I disobeyed you,” I said, elaborating when he raised an eyebrow, “when you told me not to go to the city.”

A sharp yank on my hair told me I wasn’t finished.

“And for being disrespectful. I’m very sorry,” throwing in the apology for good measure.

Another sharp pull had me wincing up at a cold anger that seemed to take him suddenly.

" _ And? _ " his voice chilling, unfeeling.

_ What? What?! _ I couldn't think what else I had done. My lack of a response had his thumb pressing painfully into the back of the hip one of his hands held. 

I yelped, bucking forward but unable to break from his bruising pressure.

"For putting yourself in danger.  _ Repeatedly _ ," he growled in my ear, rough and hushed. "For putting what is  _ mine _ in peril."

A harsh twist of his thumb had me crying out again.

"F-for putting m-myself in danger," I stammered through the god's insistent hold. Another painful dig forced the words he wanted to hear.

" _ For putting what's yours in peril! _ "

The pressure disappeared, and I slumped a little, my body relieved. His thumb was now making massaging circles over the aching spot it had caused.

"You may have seidr, but you are weak and fragile. A mere mortal," he criticized, a tone of superiority clear. "Remember that, pet." 

His fingers wound their way out of my hair to run down along my back, another shiver running through me. Then, his hand ghosted over my backside, and I nearly launched myself forward, the light touch feeling like nails on sunburned skin. 

_ Is this what he meant by wanting to leave me more incapacitated before he had left? _ I worried as the realization that sitting after this was going to be unbearable.

“Mmm...your rosy flesh looks good enough to eat,” he intoned behind me, running another light touch over the searing skin, eliciting another jolt and hiss from me. “Shall we proceed to the lashing, then, my pet?”

“ _ What?! _ ” I yelped, my panic quite clear in my own ears.

I turned my head again but couldn’t catch a glimpse of Loki.

“Seven lashes, sweet pet. Or you lose your officers,” he reminded me.

The intimidating sound of a sharp crack had my whole body seizing in abject terror. I wasn’t ready for this. I frantically glanced up at my hands before remembering that my restrained legs were the problem to my hopes for an escape.

CRACK!

What felt like a branding iron laid across the bottom of my right foot had me exhaling in shock from the bite of a leather strap.

CRACK!

The second branding hit across the tender sole of my left foot to match the first. I let my head hang, my mouth silently screaming as I tried to not make a sound. My toes, however, were curled so tightly that I felt the muscles in my feet would cramp any second.

“How many is that, my pet?” his voice calm, measured.

It took me a moment before I managed a quiet, “...two…”

CRACK! CRACK!

He had landed the next two searing strips across the backs of my calves, one for each. I gritted my teeth, an elongated whine escaping as I kicked my feet pathetically. Loki’s hand once again running down the length of my back had me arching into it without thought, the gentle touch a kiss of pleasure amidst the torment. I was breathing more harshly now, my fingers beginning to ache from their deathgrip on the unforgiving wood above.

“Count, pet,” he reminded quietly.

“Four,” I breathed. 

_ Only three more, Rune! You can do this! You can! You’ve got-- _

CRACK!

The shuttering cry that came from me wasn’t something I had any control over. Loki had taken it from me, the lash landing across the tender back of one thigh. My eyes were instantly swimming with tears. He, however, waited patiently for me.

“F-...f-five…” I finally got out.

CRACK!

I thought I had been prepared for the twin sting along my other thigh, but I was wrong. I thrashed wildly, trying to crumple down into myself without letting go of my tight grip above me, desperately trying to pull my knees together and closer to my body without success. The tears had broken and warmly streaked down my cheeks.

The hand that slowly spread between my shoulders was warm, but I immediately felt myself shudder against it. It stayed there, however, offering me a point of calmness to focus on. Loki had remained silent behind me, undoubtedly enjoying my reactions to his sadistic heart’s content.

“You have done so well, my pet,” his tones low and close, near enough for his breath to fall along my neck. “Do you wish for me to stop?”

The offer was as tempting as water in the desert. And in my addled state, I seriously considered taking it. The next lash would land where I knew Loki had been leading to, and I didn’t think I’d manage to hold anything back if that happened. 

But if I gave up now...he would win. I would lose my training, and Loki would win yet again.

_ No. You’re not giving up, Rune. Not after all the effort the queen put into training you. You can’t do that to her. Loki’s taken enough, already. He can’t have this! _

I felt myself straighten, a deep, slow breath filling my lungs as I felt Loki’s hand feeling the change in my body.

“Six,” I said calmly, blinking the tears from my eyes.

I felt Loki place a soft kiss along the back of my neck, the warm touch feeling like a sign of appreciation, before his lips and hand left me alone and cold.

CRACK!

The scream that filled the air died with the end of my long exhale of breath. My skin felt as though it had very well been slashed open, my tears running freely as I trembled through the pain.

I only felt the slightest touch of something between my legs before being impaled, the sudden intrusion drawing a different sort of sound from me, a strangled whine. The aggressive grunt of him in my ear caused an instantaneous sense of satisfaction, though, a delirium high coursing through me.

Loki took hold of my hips, pulling me further down to stretch my arms above my head and give him leverage to begin his assault. Each powerful thrust was harsh, his grip holding my hips in place so I couldn’t move away. The position kept me vulnerable, open, and unable to do anything but feel every jolting impact of his body against mine, painful against my already heated backside, his hard need digging out pleasure from me. I could do little more than grunt and pant as my body jolted up and down. The tightening was beginning, those embers coming to life as the sounds of our bodies filled the room. 

Loki’s breaths were measured but stuttered by his enthusiastic efforts. I held onto those breaths as my fingers gripped painfully at the available wood above me. 

CRACK!

A searing burn accompanied the slap of the leather strap across my backside. I began to thrash in my limited mobility, screeching at him with frustration and desperation. A strong arm wrapped around my center to pull me more flush against the god's body as he continued to pump into me despite my rage.

"That-- is eight--, pet," he grunted in my ear, his words straining with each deep thrust.

I shook my head, refusing to say it.

"Only two more, my pet. And then I can give you something  _ nice… _ ," he promised, doing his damndest to cajole me into giving him what he wanted.

The building tension inside was ratched to a new level as his hand dipped from my stomach to find that sensitive bud between my legs, circling just around it, enough to be maddening. My body tightened in response, and I couldn’t stand it any longer. 

“Please, my prince. Please-please-please…” I began muttering, pleading pathetically.

"Say it, pet," the commanding tone sinking through somehow as I writhed against his busy fingers and the warming friction between my legs.

"Eight..." 

CRACK!

I screamed again, but the pain soon bled through to the sparks of pleasure, my body giving the god what he wanted as it clamped around him.

The sounds of Loki’s breathing became louder and more ragged. 

“Let me hear you, pet," he growled in my ear. " _ Once more _ ."

"NINE!" I cried out, the tears still falling as I waited for the final lashing. And my sweet release.

CRACK!

I felt the snap before my body began to shake uncontrollably, the orgasm blowing away any control I might have had. I threw my head back, arching as I pushed back into him, my body going rigid. I keened, a high wail, partially sobbed as a feeling of shattering took place somewhere inside me. 

Loki's body shuddered and he buried himself solidly in me, his twitches felt along my overly sensitive skin, inside and out. He finally groaned his own release in my ear, his hands grasping at my flesh to hold me tight against him. It was a help as my arms had fallen to my sides at some point, limp and useless.

He held me that way for some time as I listened to our breathing begin to slow. 

A soft kiss was placed at the back of my neck again, followed by the nuzzling feeling of Loki's nose in my hair.

"...good pet…," he muttered softly as I felt another soft touch of lips, "...my sweet pet…"

I would be lying to myself if I said it didn't feel good. His appreciative praise, his gentle kisses, even his still warm hold around me had me melting back against him. I closed my eyes. My contentment spoke volumes.

_ My seidr didn't speak up once in all that… _ , the realization settling in my mind. That other voice had remained silent as well.

Loki moved, pulling himself out before the restraints at my knees disappeared. The sensation of being rocked back and swooped up into his arms again had me opening my eyes to the sight of Loki watching me carefully. It was the same look he had given me after our first time--expressionless but eyes darting, alert, watching closely. I could feel the tears drying on my face, managing to wipe at my cheeks and eyes as I ducked my head a little at Loki’s scrutinizing gaze.

He moved slowly, in no hurry to put me down apparently as he made his way to my side of the bed. When he reached his destination only to stand still, clearly waiting for something, I finally glanced back up at him.

“When I set you down, you will lie on your stomach,” he instructed, waiting for me to acknowledge I understood with a quick nod.

He lowered my feet to the ground but quickly took hold of my hips to balance me when I had frantically grabbed at his shoulders to get me off my feet again. They had felt as though I had stepped on hot coals. I glanced up at Loki who had returned to his more amused self, smirking at my odd little jig. I didn’t have time to scowl as I quickly got onto the bed, lowering myself face-down, the warm fur beneath me feeling soft and welcoming. My body felt achy and heavy.

Loki wandered away, the sound of him rummaging through his wardrobe brief before he had returned to my side, this time sitting alongside me on the bed. I turned my head to look at him over my shoulder, slightly worried about what he had planned now. But my worries were quickly abated as he dropped a few drops of some sort of tonic onto his hands, rubbing them together to spread the potion before picking up my nearest foot and gently rubbing the blistering mark from the strap. 

Though the initial touch burned much like when my feet had met the floor, the pain quickly faded as a numbing sensation had me sighing with relief. Loki said nothing but continued his soothing of my other stripes of welted skin. The repeated burn and relief at Loki’s hands, hands that were taking their time to be thorough in their treatment, had my breathing deepening as I relaxed into his touch. Once my legs were pleasantly numbed, I glanced back over my shoulder to see Loki rubbing his hands together again, his eyes set on the havoc he had reeked on my blistered backside.

His eyes glanced over to me only briefly, catching my eye before he smirked again. I whipped my head back around in time to pull a pillow down and shove my face in it before his hands were on me. I felt my body arch and try curling into itself despite my flat position as I smothered my pained moans.

But like before, the numbing sensation followed quickly behind, my tensed muscles gradually releasing as I slumped against the furs once again. When gentle fingers pulled at my folds and a dry, slightly rough material was carefully wiped along the sticky mess between my legs, it finally dawned on me that Loki was being attentive...caring…

“Thank you,” I said quietly while keeping my eyes glued to the pillow beneath my face. 

It felt so odd thanking him, considering he had been the one to make a mess of me, but the need to say it was there nonetheless. I felt calm, relieved even, to say it.

“The relief will only last through the night,” he warned, his hands leaving their task as he situated himself alongside me, propped up on one elbow to look down at me. His other hand began to play along the back of my shoulder, fingertips drawing leisurely scribbles. “After all, it is not a punishment if there is no regret at having earned it, pet.”

“This is only a temporary reprieve,” is what he meant. I would certainly regret it all tomorrow.

But for now, I stretched, the heaviness having quickly taken over my limbs and eyelids. I tried snuggling myself down more into the furs, tucking my elbows along the sides of my chest, trying to trap heat beneath me. The chill of the room was finally registering. Loki adjusted himself quick enough, pulling a fur from beneath him and over me, the soft cured underside feeling velvet soft along my skin. He didn’t join me underneath it, however.

I felt the bed jostle before I caught a glimpse of his bare cheeks disappearing into the washroom. I closed my eyes, easily drifting off, tucked into the lovely cocoon the god had left me in.

~ ~ ~ 

The old tree looked more real than it ever had. I stood several strides away from its imposing self, so large that its branches disappeared into the night sky above. The evening was calm, the soft chirping of bugs adding their song to the pleasant ambiance. Overhead, the moon was round and beaming, a soothing presence.

I didn’t know why, but the urge to touch the great tree came over me. To feel it as I had felt the tree in the courtyard. I noticed I was barefoot when the cool blades of grass soothed my steps as I approached. 

As I drew up close to its trunk, its age was written in its thickened, cracked skin; deep veins ran between thick, dark bark, the moon unable to reveal their true depths. 

Timidly, I reached out a hand, intent on sliding my fingers gently over the rough wood. A crackling sound filled my ears at just the touch of one finger. I whipped my hand back, searching all along the trunk for signs of distress or damage. But the crackling had stopped as soon as I had removed my hand.

The calm of the night filled the air again.

“Be not afraid, child.”

I stepped back with surprise, the deep toned voice seemingly emanating from the tree itself.

I waited for it to speak again, but when it didn’t, I moved closer to the strange tree. Once again, I reached out my hand and gently laid my fingertips along the now noticeably warm bark. There was no crackling, but what I felt through my fingertips was overwhelming. My seidr, reaching out on contact, identified a sort of light just beneath the surface of the aged wood--or at least it felt like a light. Warm, comforting, and vital. When flashes of rainbowed light streaked across my vision, I dropped to my knees, releasing my light touch from the ancient thing.

I felt breathless.  _ What are you? _

At that moment, a sudden warmth hugged along my back, and for a moment, I thought it had been the tree. But then the warm touch moved along one hip and stretched across my belly, a tightening beginning low beneath the pooling warmth. I raised my head to look up at the tree, as great and still as ever.

“...beware...”

The tree voice had spoken once again, but its voice was muffled, fainter. And the warmth that had continued spreading along my skin was pleasurably distracting. Something damp and rough slid along the side of my neck…

...and I woke to my own quiet moan filling the dark room. I froze, blinking twice as I let my eyes adjust. And then I felt him move against me. 

That warmth around my belly slid up to cup my breast, Loki’s hand gently stroking and teasing. His lips found a delicious spot just below my jaw and were lavishing it with soft kisses, titillating licks, and careful but effective pulls and nibbles to the sensitive skin.

Another quiet noise sounded in the back of my throat.

“So good...,” came Loki’s softened voice against my neck. “Such a sweet pet.”

The playful fingers at my breast began to gently pinch and roll the hardening nipple, and I pushed back against Loki. I needed more. But Loki’s hand left my breast to still my hip, firm but not painful as I would have expected. I felt his other fingers slide beneath my hair but again only firmly and painlessly turn my head to better face him, my body twisting at the waist. Loki was propped up on one elbow behind me, and in the pale light from the half moon that made his skin seem to almost glow, I was struck by the soft look in his eyes.

“What is it?” I asked quietly.

He answered with a pull at my hair, exposing my throat more readily to him as he continued his languid tasting, finally muttering against my heated skin, “Something nice.”

“Oh,” was all I managed as his hot mouth found its way to my nearest breast.

My right hand gripped at the sheets in expectation, but he didn’t bite. Instead, he began teasing the nipple, playing at the tip with his tongue, or enveloping it entirely in his mouth and gently sucking as he rolled his tongue across it.

The hands at my hip and hair kept me from moving much, but I wiggled and squirmed, the need for more of Loki making my legs squeeze together beneath the animal fur that covered our lower halves.

When his mouth dipped, leaving a trail of affectionate touches from his busy mouth down my stomach, I felt my hand grip his, still planted at my hip. I expected a swift, possibly painful response, but he allowed my hand to remain against his.

"You don't have to do that," I voiced, unsure if refusing him was even an option but feeling adamant about what I didn't want him to do.

His head paused, and he looked back up at me under his lowered brow. Despite the darkness, I still managed to see the displeasure in his eyes.

"I wish to, pet," he said lowly, his head dipping back to its task of trailing warm kisses down my belly.

When he finally reached the point of the fur covers, my hand gripped the covering, unwilling to let his mouth travel farther. He looked back up at me.

"It's not what I want," I managed to state though quieter, less confident than I should have.

One of his dark eyebrows arched upward, a question or a challenge; I couldn't tell. I decided to take the chance that he was actually willing to listen.

"I don't want you to do...that…," my embarrassment keeping me from stating the obvious.

We seemed to have a brief standoff, my body rigid and my hands still desperately gripping the fur while Loki hovered, still, contemplating.

He pushed down and back on my hip, tipping me back to lay flat against the bed. But he didn't rip away the fur and go about seeking what he wanted. No, instead, he returned alongside me, one hand brushing my hair away from my face while the other laid itself possessively over my stomach. It made circles along my skin.

"It is your reward, so I will oblige," he said above me, his eyes holding mine, "but I will lay claim to what is mine eventually, pet."

I felt one of his legs hook over my left one, pulling it apart and pinning it beneath his. Then, his hand had dipped beneath the fur, his creeping fingers whispering over the soft thatch of hair to gently stroke over my folds. The delicacy of it had me giving hushed sighs as I looked up into Loki’s sharp gaze. The god was watching me closely, every twitch of my lip or dart of my tongue or deepening breath monitored by those pale flames in his eyes. His hand pulled back once again at my hair, exposing my throat to his hungry mouth.

A finger dipped between my folds, drawing up the length of me before beginning small circles around that pearl of pleasure. I moaned, Loki’s mouth smiling against my collar bone.

“I could feast on you for days if it would keep those lovely sounds in my ears,” he mumbled before taking a nipple firmly in his mouth.

The pressure between my legs had increased, Loki’s finger centering more tightly, and then I gasped and bucked as his tongue had chosen to pleasantly play with my nipple. I couldn’t lower my chin to look at Loki, his hand still firmly latched in my hair, but the vibration from his quiet laugh was telling enough of his amusement at my body’s responses.

His swirling finger dipped suddenly to slide easily into my wet entrance, a slight touch of soreness oddly pleasing.

“...more…,” I said to the ceiling, my fingers digging once again into the bed sheets in an attempt to not grab at Loki.

“As my pet wishes,” he breathed along my skin as he moved across to my other breast, giving the same attention with his tongue that he had given its twin.

A second finger slid in, the slight stretch heightening the dull pain into a warming burn. I tried bucking against his hand again, my need for more pathetically evident, and his thumb found my sensitive bundle of nerves again.

I whined, the gentle pumping of his fingers adding to the tight coiling sensation that was steadily building in me.

“My beautiful pet…,” he muttered, his breath moving up the center of my chest, soft kisses dotting his path. “...my sweetly soft, little pet…”

_ No. Not now. Not when you’re being so gentle. _

I shook my head.

“My name… please…,” I begged, not wanting the moment to be ruined. 

He was being intentionally gentle, attentive, and obliging. A giving lover. I didn’t want to hear the pet name. Not now.

Loki was suddenly between my legs, spreading them wider with his thighs, his hand still working into me but now less hindered. His fingers dipped deeper as his thumb continued its circles. I began moving my hips in rhythm with him, panting in time.

Then, Loki’s lips were over mine, his tongue dipping in and exploring. I moaned into him. He ended the deep kiss with a few softer ones as he nudged beneath my chin with his nose before returning to worrying my throat.

“...beautiful, sweet Rúna…”

The jolt of pleasure that went through me had me bucking into Loki’s pleasing touch.

“...my little mortal...,” his words were deep and heavy in my ear and somehow reverberated through my body, “...my Rúna.”

I felt myself clamp down on his fingers, which curled up as they continued their delve between my shaking thighs. My body arched up against him as the orgasm hit, a crashing wave that sent any control on my part right out of the window. I desperately grabbed at the backs of Loki’s shoulders, holding onto him for dear life as his fingers continued to pull the orgasm from me. Loki buried his face in my neck but allowed me my temporary handling of him.

His hand slowed and eventually stilled as the tension released from my limbs. Loki didn’t move or say anything, his body having become rigid beneath my fingers at some point. I let my hands drop away and back to the mattress. A soft kiss at the crux of my neck was his first response.

“Good girl.”

He placed another kiss along my neck. And another. Each one followed by a “sweet girl,” “my lovely Rúna,” or something of the like. His fingers were back to delicately running up and down my now thoroughly wet folds, and I couldn’t help but tilt my head and let my eyes close, wanting nothing more than to keep listening to Loki’s sweet-nothings and enjoying his kind touches.

When his fingers unwound themselves from my hair, I finally was able to look him in the eye again. His lids were heavy, but that catch of light was still there. He grinned down at me as he retrieved his hand from between my legs to slide his two fingers into his mouth. I felt my face flush with heat, Loki grinning wider as his fingers left his mouth, licking his lips.

“I had forgotten how sweet you taste, pet,” he commented before returning himself alongside me.

He quickly turned me back onto my side and curled himself along my back, one arm curling around my middle. It was only then I noticed his arousal, stiff along my backside. 

“Um,” I mumbled, unsure what to say, “would you...should I…?”

I felt Loki shake a little from a quiet chuckle. He pulled me more tightly against him, making his arousal indisputably evident.

“It will wait until morning, pet. When I am no longer feeling  _ nice _ ,” he threatened in my ear before nuzzling just behind it.

The fact that he would forgo his own pleasure to fulfill his side of the bargain, to give me something nice for baring ten lashes, was a bit surprising but also strangely comforting. He honored his side of the bargain. Though I hadn’t noticed the gnawing anxiety before, a degree of worry seemed to lift at the knowledge that Loki could be trusted in some way. 

He was still manipulative. He was still infuriating. He was also still terrifying, in so many more ways now.

But he had established some trust. Sleep crept over me quick enough, comforted that he would honor our understanding.


	17. Ch. 17 - And Skuld Drew Breath

Early dawn had just begun to fill Loki’s room with grey light when my eyes opened. I lay there on my side, blinking sleepily at the lightening Asgardian sky visible through the open balcony doors. The world outside seemed so separate from the current world I was living in, curled beneath warm furs, a heavy arm draped over my hip beneath our covers. I noted Loki’s quiet, even breathing coming from just behind me as I began to awaken fully, realizing he had managed to fairly plaster himself along the back of me over the course of the night. And the heat of his body was not aiding in the sensitive area he had lavished attention on.

The warmth and press of him was now noticeably uncomfortable.

Deciding to try and maneuver my sore rear away from the god, I slowly began to dip my hip forward, a snail-like pace to roll onto my stomach as his hand limply dragged back and over my hip. I paused for a moment, waiting to hear Loki’s continued rhythmic breaths before slowly beginning to roll once again.

My breath caught in my throat the moment his dragging palm went across one achy cheek, the discomforting sensation of his heated skin against it had me pausing to let myself silently wince. The effects of the numbing tonic were gone. Even the soft slide of the furs was an irritant. I settled onto my stomach, listening for Loki’s breaths again.

Silence. 

Then...

“Where is my pet off to?”

Loki’s low words had me whipping my face to the right to see the shine of the early morning in his pale eyes. Even in the predawn light, I could make out the slight upturned curl to his mouth. A jolting ache in response to Loki’s suddenly, harshly grasping hand drew a pained groan from the back of my throat.

“Mmm...ripe for the picking,” the words nearly moaned as his hand slid over to take an ungentle hold of my other battered cheek. 

The unfriendly handling and the tone of Loki’s voice had me sidling away as quickly as I could from his pain-seeking touch. My aching rear popped out from under my end of the furs, the kiss of the chilly morning air offering a surprise of relief. Half under the covers but now out of Loki’s immediate reach, I watched with a drop of apprehension twisting my insides as his smile widened.

“Running will not save you,” he warned nonchalantly but with clear enjoyment plastered on his face. 

The warm protection of the fur was swiftly removed with a quick motion of his arm, the cold air of the room sending goosebumps across what felt like every bit of my exposed skin. At the sight of Loki’s aching arousal between his legs, I backed myself quickly to the edge of the bed, carefully feeling my feet onto the chilled floor behind me while keeping a sharp eye on any sign of movement from the god.

My odd backwards crawl had to be entertaining to watch as he raised himself onto an elbow, grinning at me.

"I-I think I'm too sore…," I justified as I finally gained an upright position next to the bed, thankful the sting beneath my feet had seemed to dissipate over the course of the night.

"Perfectly ripe," he countered with a darkening look that had me taking a few steps back from the bed.

Loki's eyes glanced at my retreating feet, and when his predatory gaze returned to my face, I knew I was not going to manage to get away. Of course I wouldn't, locked in a room with a creature more powerful than any I knew of back on Earth.

But the reality of my situation didn't stop my body from agreeing that flight was a sane response in the moment.

Without warning, I made a direct path for the locked door, certain I could open it if I could just get my hand on the handle, my seidr already tingling at my fingertips. I was so close, only a few steps away when Loki had swiftly leapt from the bed, appearing between me and the door as though summoned by some unnatural means. I skittered to a halt and scurried back out of his reach, my breathing coming more rapidly as my nerves rattled through me. His lean, stealthy body was tensed, his fingers beginning to twitch at his sides, his erection bobbing before him.

That thrill of excitement was swiftly joining the fear, fear of what degree of pain he was going to exact this morning. The reaction of desire mixed with fear was still baffling to me. The familiar admonishing criticisms of _What’s wrong with you?_ echoed dully in my mind, followed by the recurring embarrassment. I could feel my cheeks flush as I made a point to stare determinedly into Loki’s chest.

"Perhaps my pet needs to be strapped down?" 

The question sounded as though he were suggesting it for my own good. The patronizing tone had me glaring up into his faintly dancing eyes, those same eyes quickly darkening as he lowered his head slightly to look at me directly. My irritation drained away rather quickly at the intimidating stare, my stomach twisting once again with worrisome anticipation.

"Nooo," I bemoaned, shaking my head.

Loki's smile slowly faded. Tremors of nervousness in addition to the shivers from the morning air made me feel like I was vibrating from the tension.

"Come here."

Keeping my eyes glued to his, I took a step forward, timid and small. Loki’s serious look didn’t change, so I took another step forward, this time slightly bigger. It took a third step before his hand whipped out to latch onto my arm. He yanked me towards him but moved out of the way in time to send me past him and up against the door, his hand between my shoulder blades, pressing my chest against the cold wood. Between my breasts, the tiny tonic bottle felt like ice, trapped between me and the door, an annoying reminder of what I had bargained for, of what I owed him. 

Along my spine, the flame to fight was snuffed out quick enough.

“The sight of you this morning, my pet…,” he commented as his hand slid down my back, coming to rest along my hip, “...ravishing.”

I let out a defeated sigh as his other hand caressed over one of my bruised cheeks, coming to cup it more gently than he had previously. I breathed another sigh, this one of relief, when his hand was removed only to feel it return with a smarting smack. The simultaneous burn and ache had me pressing myself further into the door, dancing slightly in place on my toes. I hadn’t thought of fighting him, even with his clear desire to watch me writhe in pain for his amusement. That was until his bemused chuckling came ringing into my ears.

It was one thing knowing he enjoyed my pain, but it was surprisingly infuriating to hear him laugh at it. 

“...jerk…,” I muttered under my breath, the word slipping out without my consent. Though it was barely audible to even me, I stopped breathing the very moment after, silently hoping Loki hadn’t heard it.

The heavy weight of the god crushed me against the door, his hips and hard arousal pressing unforgivingly against my battered and bruised backside, garnering a grunt of pain from me. His hands had found mine and lifted them up, placing them alongside my head, his own pressing them flat against the door. With one side of my face pressed to the door, Loki’s lips were right at my ear, every slight breath he took quite clear. 

A tight clench low in my stomach at the slight gratification I heard in his small huffs drew yet another sigh from me, this one of contentment.

 _How can you be getting off to this?!_ I berated myself, still unable to just let myself enjoy what my body clearly felt. His pleasure was becoming my pleasure, and part of me hated that. Hated what I’d let him do to me if it gave him pleasure. _Don’t go down that road, Rune._

A hard, sharp press into my sore backside brought me out of my head.

“You are mine, little pet,” his words controlled, confident. “Say it.”

Another painful dig into me had me grunting again. But a stubborn rod had seemed to lodge itself in my spine. I didn’t want to comply. He didn’t deserve it. Not truly. Not yet.

“Not until you hold up your end of the bargain,” I muttered along the hard wood.

“That obstinate nature of yours does not serve you well.”

With those words, I felt him lower and adjust himself, a prodding sensation felt between my thighs. Wet from my own arousal, he easily parted my soft folds as he pressed in.

“Your body knows its master,” he gloated in my ear as he slowly began to stretch my sore entrance around him.

I couldn’t help but groan, the familiar mixture of pain edged in pleasure--or was it the other way around?--was intoxicating. An odd noise reverberated through the wood at my one ear, the slight pain at my fingertips revealing it was from my nails digging into the door.

KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK!

A quick rap of knocks against my pressed ear nearly stopped my heart. I squeaked before biting down hard on my bottom lip, my eyes unable to blink, my lungs unable to breathe.

Loki had become statuesque himself, but he was at least able to respond.

“Yes?” he said quietly.

“I am sorry to wake you, your grace,” came the muffled, slightly off-pitched voice of a young man. “The king awaits your imminent attendance in his personal chambers. Apprentice Rune is expected to attend as well.”

My face warmed quickly as I shifted, flushed from embarrassment at what the servant might have heard. I felt Loki’s hands drop to my hips, keeping me still.

Loki was silent for just a few heartbeats, but the pause had me curious, what was going on in his mind becoming of great interest. _What does Odin want with me this early in the morning?_ The timing, urgently at the break of day, had a ball of worry taking up shop in my stomach yet again.

“We will attend promptly,” Loki replied in the same quiet tone, but his hands along my hips had become painful pincers. It took everything in me not to make a sound or move at the digging fingers.

“Very good, your grace,” came the errand boy’s voice before I heard his feet hurriedly shuffle away, followed by a dull thud, the doors to the rainbow corridor closing behind him.

When his painful grip loosened, Loki removed himself from between my legs as well. I felt the tension leave my body as I was allowed to remove myself from the door, turning to look up at him. His face was expressionless as he stared blankly at a spot somewhere above my head.

“Should we get dressed?” I hopefully suggested, a bit disappointed but more relieved for the interruption. Maybe pain wasn’t going to be on the menu this morning.

He blinked once before his eyes dropped to look at me, my relief at having escaped his morning plans written plainly on my face.

“Have no fear, pet. I can be patient,” he promised with a slight curl to one side of his mouth.

And with that, he took hold of my elbow and pulled me along to the bathing room. My complaint that “I can walk just fine without you pulling me” went wholly unacknowledged.

~ ~ ~ 

The corridors Loki led me through were less decorated than those near his rooms and the queen's drawing room, but they seemed grander somehow. The bare walls and floors were instead made from a finer grade of stone, so well carved and crafted that it was difficult to note any seams. And with the high polish, the floors had the appearance of shallow pools of water, reflecting their surroundings.

I kept marveling at the craftsmanship, the small alcoves with picturesque stained glass windows making me slow as I tried to appreciate each one. Loki had answered my first few questions about the images with succinct answers, but with each slowing pace as I appreciated the artistry, I could see Loki's patience waning. After popping back out of an alcove I had darted into at the glimpse of a stained-glass, winged horse with an armored and armed woman on its back, the cold glare he gave back to my smile told me I was pushing my luck.

"If you wish a lesson, I will happily oblige, pet," he quietly warned. " _Later_."

The whole "obeying" requirement was going to be a constant challenge; I could already tell. 

I sulkily returned to him, keeping my mouth shut and myself glued to his side as we proceeded along the lengthy stone corridor, our echoing steps the only sound.

We walked like that for some time.

My feet eventually slowed when ceiling-high, golden doors came into sight around the gradual bend of the rounded corridor we had just turned down. An intimidating set of armed guards was blocking immediate access to the king’s personal rooms. The warning Loki had given me just yesterday, of Odin’s concerns over the threat I posed, had me suddenly wishing I didn’t have to move any closer to the guards. Oddly, I began to feel a bit lightheaded.

A warm, solid hand found its way to my lower back, and I felt my lungs release.

"Have no fear, pet," Loki whispered teasingly in my ear. “If the king was going to throw you in the dungeons, he would have foregone the cordial invite.”

With the help of his hand propelling me along, the guards moved aside when the prince’s presence was acknowledged, each grabbing a handle and opening the doors to Odin's chambers.

Loki ushered me into the rather bare but refined parlor of the king. Like the queen's, a massive fire pit burned at the center of the room, but there was little decoration or personal touch. Instead, there were dark, carved wooden tables with sunken tops arranged around the room. A few heavy wooden chairs were randomly placed around them. Though there was a balcony near the back of the large, rounded room, the doors granting access to it were closed; the warmth of the enclosed fire immediately had me feeling uncomfortable as several heads turned to watch us enter.

With Thor beside him, Odin stood nearest the fire, illuminating them both in a warm light; like father like son. Thor’s toothy smile at the sight of us infused the god’s warmth into my limbs, their sudden heaviness lightening as Loki’s hand proceeded to guide me forward though noticeably not near his brother. Instead, I was steered to the queen’s side, Eir her companion as they had taken positions farther from the warmth of the fire. The queen raised her head from the little book she had been flipping through, the fact that it was the head healer’s own personal journal becoming evident as I drew near.

“It is good to see you, my dear,” greeted the queen, but instead of reaching for her younger son’s cheek first as I expected, her gentle hands cupped my face.

I looked at her with a bit of surprise but smiled back as her friendly look had my nerves settling somewhat. _She’s so considerate of me_ , I thought warmly. Yet, a slight stab of guilt made me gently pull back from the queen’s friendly gesture. 

_What if she knew what sort of arrangement you had with her son?_ I chided myself.

The queen let me go but turned then to greet Loki as I finally met Eir’s eye. The healer's usually considerate expression was surprisingly blank, but her warm eyes looked a bit wide and slightly concerned, her eyebrows beginning to grow a crease between them. It took little thought to guess why she was worried; her concern over me under Loki’s training most likely returned with the prince. I hated making her worry, attempting to give a warm, reassuring smile. 

I moved to join her, but a familiar hand at my elbow indelicately tugged me back the brief step I had taken. 

I glanced up at Loki, a bit surprised he’d handled me like that in front of everyone else. He, however, raised an eyebrow, peering down in that arrogant way of his without tilting his head. I huffed at him in irritation but remained at his side, tugging my elbow from his grip just the same.

The exchange was not lost on anyone else in the room, an awkward silence lingering until the king finally spoke.

“My apologies for the early hour,” commented Odin’s quiet though demanding voice. “However, the matter of Apprentice Rune has become a pressing issue as of late.”

“Why is that, Father?” asked Loki rather reservedly despite the scrutinizing look he was giving the king. 

Looking around at the others--Thor continuing to smile at me from Odin’s side, Eir keeping her eye on Loki, and Frigga again perusing the healer’s notes--they all seemed aware of what Odin was referring to, their varying degrees of indifference at Odin’s words evident. Only Loki and I seemed to be in the dark, and Loki didn’t look too pleased about it, his gaze intent on boring into his father.

“You cannot tell me you are surprised,” commented the king, giving a slight flick of a finger in a dismissive manner, turning his formidable eye to me. “Did Prince Loki fail to inform you of your present reputation, Apprentice Rune?”

I glanced up at Loki, curious to find out if the god had been honest with me yesterday. His face gave away nothing as he didn’t give an ounce of attention back to me. Returning to meet Odin’s questioning gaze, I nodded.

“Yes, he told me…,” I paused to chance a quick glance again at the stoic face next to me, “...that there are people who might want to...use my seidr powers.”

“We have known of these whispers for weeks. What has made the matter so urgent?” interjected Loki, an increasingly clipped tone the only clue to his irritation behind his mask of general indifference.

Odin quietly held his youngest son’s eye, regarding him with apparent care. But it wasn’t Odin who answered Loki’s question.

“Heimdallr has sent a warning,” the rumbling words grabbed my attention to Thor who was now smiling at his brother, the whole situation apparently amusing the sunny god. “He fears you may be in peril at the hands of the little witch.”

The thought that Loki could be outsmarted or in danger by someone like me seemed ridiculous; the seidr-infused tart had been a fluke. Even Thor’s giant smile at me, the crinkled corners of his eyes giving him a look of pure joy at the joke of it all, revealed his lack of faith in my abilities as well. The humor in the idea was not lost on me as I gave a grin back.

“Did the prince not press upon you, Apprentice Rune, the severity of the situation?” Odin asked, wiping my smile from my face quick enough. “After yesterday’s display on the grounds, your seidr capabilities are not of little concern.”

“Do not condemn the girl for that which she has not committed.”

My defender’s kind though stern tone drew all attention to the queen. The challenging look she gave her husband was something I hadn’t witnessed before.

“Or has she bewitched me as well?” her usually soft voice rising in challenge to Odin whose eye softened as he considered his wife. “She has been under my tutelage and eye for well over a month now. And in that time, Rune has proven herself not only an excellent pupil but a kind, capable, and trustworthy soul.”

“My apologies, my love,” Odin said with a slight bow of his head towards his offended partner. “I did not mean to question your judgment of the girl.”

I ignored the belittling label of “girl” and instead put my energy to better use, defending myself; the habit in the presence of Odin was becoming a regularity, it seemed.

“I have done my best to follow the queen’s guidance, your grace,” I spoke up though nervously as all eyes turned onto me. “I would never want to disappoint her by hurting her son. Or anyone else.”

I paused, but no one spoke. It left me feeling the need to keep speaking while I could. While I had their ears.

“Who is this Heimdallr? I don’t think I’ve ever met him before. Why would he accuse me of endangering Prince Loki?”

Odin kept his sharp eye on me but didn’t answer my questions.

“She has a right to know, Father. As do I,” Loki prodded, his voice cool once again despite an insistent ticking I could see in his jaw. “What does the all-seeing Heimdallr have to say?”

_All-seeing?_

The king raised an eyebrow; out of irritation or surprise at Loki’s sarcastic tone, I couldn’t tell.

“Soon after she was discovered in your mother’s gardens, Heimdallr has kept an eye on the girl at my bidding,” Odin explained. “It is fortunate I did so, for it appears that your dealings with the girl have fallen beneath the expectations of your station.”

My eyes dropped to the floor as the words had my face burning with embarrassment.

 _How does this Heimdallr know about Loki and I? What does he know? How much did he tell the king?!_ My brain soon flooded with panic.

I glanced up at Odin, but thankfully he only had attention for his youngest son. Thor, on the other hand, was grinning doggedly at me, another heated wave of embarrassment making me shift uncomfortably. I didn’t dare look over to Eir or the queen. Even just imagining their disappointed, perhaps even hurt, faces sent a slight wave of nausea through me.

“My dealings with my apprentice are mine alone, now that she has promised her dutifulness and obedience to me," came Loki's clear, confident words.

I stared up at him, his words blanketing the room in a heavy silence. He was clearly laying claim on me, and the weight of others being aware of our agreement--at least in some capacity--made the understanding between us feel all the more heavy. It would soon be public knowledge that I was bound to him.

“You claim complete responsibility for the girl?” the king questioned, sounding both challenging and somehow curious. “Does she agree?”

Instead of answering his father, however, Loki finally turned to look down at me since we had entered Odin's chambers, a sinking feeling accompanying the sudden attention.

“Tell my father who you serve, apprentice.”

It couldn’t have been a simpler test of his influence over me, to demand my verbal acknowledgment that I answered to him. I knew it would come to this at some point, but I had hoped it would have been much further in the future, not before I had gotten somewhat used to the whole situation.

My hesitation to answer right away had Loki’s pale eyes narrowing in a silent threat. A phantom ache ran along my backside at the memory of the previous evening, and I dropped my eyes to my feet, hoping my face wasn't beet red.

“You, your grace,” I muttered.

" _Your grace_?" 

I could hear the slight sneer as he said it, his enjoyment coming out despite the audience watching us. Of course, he was going to milk the situation for all it was worth. 

I gave another small huff of air before muttering, "I serve you, my prince."

"Rune?"

The soft question came from Eir, and I was too mortified to meet her eye. Outside of Loki and I, this whole situation had to look absurd. If I were honest with myself, I'd even admit it was an odd relationship from within it, too. When I spoke again, it was with more determination though still aimed in the general direction of the polished stone floor at my feet.

"I have agreed to listen to and obey Prince Loki in all things as he trains me," the words falling flat on the ground at my feet with my lack of enthusiasm behind them.

Another silence filled the room to the point that I finally glanced up to catch Thor winking at Loki.

"Seems the roles in Heimdallr's tale should be reversed, eh, brother?"

I was a little surprised when I caught a grin tug at the side of Loki's mouth.

"It would appear I cannot be so easily bested by a mortal girl," he gave an unconvincing chuckle and unfeeling smile, his eyes darting back to the king. "Imagine that, Father."

Odin said nothing, but his sharp eye remained fixed on his youngest son. Loki’s growingly derisive tone towards his father was palpable. It seemed the second prince no longer felt obligated to feign respect.

“Your father’s concern over your wellbeing should not be mocked, Loki,” Frigga’s soft though chiding words making Loki break his stare with his father to glance at his mother. “He has only your best interest at heart.”

“Does he?” he retorted quietly as though speaking it aloud had been an afterthought.

The simple, perhaps offhand, question received a concerned frown from the queen. Across the way, I noticed Odin’s face fall ever so slightly as though his son’s doubt of his intentions was unexpected.

“Of course he does,” chided the queen as though Loki was merely being ridiculous.

“You have plainly made an impression on your apprentice,” the king spoke, giving careful attention to Loki, “to warrant such...devotion.”

I could see Odin had not forgotten the mysterious Heimdallr’s warning of the inappropriate nature of my dealings with the youngest prince. I felt the telltale burn of my cheeks flushing with embarrassment once again, quickly avoiding Thor as he winked at me.

“If you wish to hold complete responsibility over the girl,” Odin continued, addressing his youngest, “then so be it. You have clearly gained favor with your apprentice by some means.”

I noticed Loki’s hands unfurl from the tense fists they had at some point become, but he didn’t give any reprieve from the stare he continued to give the king. I didn’t understand the hostility Loki held towards his father, but I thought that the king’s acknowledgement and--honestly--gracious allowance of his youngest son's claim of control over me would have resulted in a less confrontational Loki. Obviously, whatever was between them went past the subject of a mortal witch.

“Her training by _both_ you and the queen will continue, however. She will also be expected to continue her duties among the healers when not specifically under the training of her mentors,” continued Odin, clearly still holding rule over the matter despite Loki’s claim of responsibility. “She will also continue her treatments with Healer Eir to retrieve her full memory. And should she fail in her obedience or shirk her duties, you will be held accountable.”

Odin waited for his son to respond, and once the dark-haired head of Loki nodded in acknowledgement, Odin finally turned his attention away from the both of us to Eir. 

With the matter of my freedom put to rest, or at least the parts of it I had come to accept as part of my daily life, I tuned out what was being said and peered up at Loki, curious what he was thinking. But he continued to not give me his attention; instead, he turned to observe Eir who was informing the room of her progress with my memory retrieval at the query of the king.

 _Well, there’s no getting rid of him now,_ I thought with a slight sense of worry. If the agreement we had made wasn’t enough to keep me at Loki’s beck and call, having the entire castle acknowledge his ownership of me--at least, that was what it was beginning to feel like--sealed the deal. I was properly tethered to him, but I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. 

_Is it really all that different from what you already agreed to?_

“...soon, which I believe may offer some answers. I would like to speak with Prince Loki once we are finished here. I believe the prince may be able to aid in that endeavor,” finished Eir, only the tail end of her report caught by me at the mention of Loki.

“What?” I blurted out, my eyes darting between Eir and Loki with confusion. 

Catching the queen’s soft smile at my clear lack of attention, I felt the habitual flush of embarrassment wash over me. The queen had seen it often enough when my mind was not on task during training.

“I am sorry for keeping the matter secret, Rune,” elaborated Eir, giving me a slightly apologetic look for some reason. “Prince Loki and I have been conversing while he was away. I did not wish to bring up the matter unless we had come to some agreement.”

“Agreement on what?” I asked, still not sure what the two of them could possibly have had to say to one another involving me.

“On how to progress with treating your memory loss, of course.”

It had been Loki who had finally spoken, his more usual condescending tone returning.

“I don’t understand,” I stated nonplussed, looking back to Eir for answers, but Loki put the kibosh on that quick enough.

“I will explain in more detail at another time, apprentice,” he said with finality, indicating that I should let it go. 

I narrowed my eyes at him, receiving a cold, hard look back in turn. It was enough to make me look away, the memory of what I’d receive at disobeying him uncomfortably evident behind me; soon after dressing that morning, Fulla’s comfortable apron dress had become an instrument of mild torture, the skirt and apron weighing too heavily on my tender rump. But one glance at Eir, who was quietly observing the small exchange between me and Loki, garnered an assuring smile from my friend. She, at least, would answer my questions at some point even if Loki wanted to be stingy in the moment.

“Keep me abreast of the girl’s progress, Healer Eir,” Odin finally chimed in as he closed the space separating him from Frigga, reaching to take her hand in his and lift it to his lips. “I will take my leave, my lady.”

Frigga smiled at her husband’s respectful adieu before he turned to leave. Following his father’s lead, Thor moved to his mother, kissing her cheek before surprisingly coming over to me. Taking one of my hands in his larger one, he raised it to his now bowed head the same as his father had done to his mother’s, placing a kiss along the back of it before giving me a cheeky grin.

“I take my leave of you, Lady Rune,” he rumbled, winking at Loki before following his father out of the parlor. 

Odin clearly only had the one interest for the meeting that morning, figuring out what to do with me, and now that Loki had offered himself to take on the task of...well, _me_ , the king evidently had other obligations to attend to. I watched as the king and his heir left, turning back to the remaining group only to find Loki staring chilling daggers at me. 

Instinctually, my hands wandered protectively behind me as I adjusted my stance, keeping my sore backside as far away from the clearly irritated god. His harsh glare thankfully dissipated, but the self-satisfied smirk that replaced it wasn’t much better.

"While I have you here," Frigga said, getting Loki's attention, "we must plan for your celebration feast. Would a fortnight be sufficient time?"

"Whatever pleases you, Mother," Loki responded in a bored manner.

"Celebration feast?" I asked curiously. 

The queen looked at me blankly before looking back at her son.

"Are you keeping your achievement a secret from your apprentice?" The queen's question sounded teasing as well as admonishing as she patted the lapel of his usual leather coat.

"Achievement?" I finally asked, prompting the queen to continue despite Loki's muteness. 

In fact, at that moment, he took it upon himself to step away to speak quietly with Eir, no doubt about whatever they were cooking up together behind my back. I was suddenly curious to listen in on their conversation, but the queen closed the space between us.

"We will be celebrating the prince's success in ending the recent dispute between the warring provinces," she elaborated before leaning in closely to whisper, "You may need a dress for the occasion, Rune. My lady's maids will assist you in any manner you need."

Reaching to take one of my hands in hers, she gave it a gentle squeeze and a kind smile. She didn't seem upset about the insinuation Odin had made earlier about her son's involvement with me. I felt a heaviness lift from my shoulders as she waited for my reply.

"Thank you, your grace," I finally managed, giving her a small smile in return. "But what did Lo-- the prince do?"

"As the king described it, Loki was responsible for the peace talks that ended the feud. It was especially challenging after the leader of one side was found murdered," she said with solemnity, showing her obvious regret that any life had been lost in the turmoil.

Her words had flashes of the dying man, choking on his own blood, taking up immediate residence in my head. _But, no… She said Loki made peace, not that he killed someone._

I glanced over at said peacemaker, my eyes flicking to his hands a few times from unnecessary nervousness.

"How did he die?" I asked in a slightly raised pitch, still watching Loki as he quietly conversed with the healer a few steps away.

"It is an unfortunate thing…," said the queen with that same solemnity, "but apparently someone cut the man's throat while-- Rune!"

I had taken a step back from the queen, my body taking over as it wanted to suddenly leave the room. Loki turned at the queen's exclamation, managing to pause my retreat as quickly as it had begun. His icy eyes took in my horrified expression--I could feel it on my face--before my attention was drawn back to Frigga, worried, as she held my cheek with one hand and began to reach for the tonic at my chest with the other.

“No, no… I-I’m fine,” I stuttered, trying desperately to come up with an acceptable excuse for my reaction as Loki’s steady gaze was now centered on me.

 _Be honest! But don’t say too much,_ warningly advised that voice somewhere deep in my head. I dragged my eyes back to Frigga’s warm concern.

“It’s just… that… it’s so horrible. How someone...could do that,” I managed to get out, relieved at the queen’s concern dimming a little as it changed into something more like pity.

“Oh, you sweet dear,” she said as she cupped my face with her hands again, the familiarity of the queen’s caring touch becoming an addictively soothing balm to the worried knot that seemed to continually live at my center these days. But her comforting hands couldn’t stop my heart that was galloping away inside of me.

“I did not mean to frighten you so,” she added as an unnecessary apology.

I flicked my eyes to the left, catching Loki returning to his conversation once again with Eir, and I breathed a sigh of genuine relief. I smiled at the queen, taking her hands from my face but keeping them in my own.

 _You don’t deserve her kindness_ , my part in keeping the nature of my relationship with Loki secret from the queen weighing heavily on my heart with every kind gesture she gave me. 

“I’m so sorry, your grace,” I began, “for not telling you about...um…” 

I glanced over at Loki again who was busy flipping through the healer’s journal as she pointed out particular things to draw his attention to. He looked as invested as he had been when we spent our quiet morning in the library so many weeks ago. 

_He has a thirsty mind_ , I noted as some dawning realization about Loki began to hit me; he really was interested in my memory loss.

“Rune, dear,” said the queen softly, drawing my attention back to her. She was giving me a warm smile again, the pangs of guilt echoing in me at the sight of it.

“I’m sorry that I wasn’t honest about--”

“Sh-sh-sh,” she hushed me, giving my hands a squeeze. “I am pleased you have chosen him, be it in whatever manner you two have come to agree upon.”

The acceptance of the queen was shocking, my mind literally being silenced in one ear-splittingly thoughtless moment. I could never have expected how gracious the queen could really be until that moment.

She reached up a hand again to my face, but this time, her gentle thumb wiped away a tear that had at some unknown point fallen there. I blinked and felt the light warmth of another one fall.

“Whether it is in his mentorship of an apprentice,” she quietly continued, wiping each tear that fell on my cheeks, “or his edification as a lover, I see all the good you have to offer him. A worthy purpose.”

I was too overwhelmed to speak, the tears continuing to stream from my eyes without any ability to stop until a dark blur of movement told me Loki had noticed and walked over to the odd scene between his mother and his apprentice.

“What is wrong?”

I frantically began wiping at my eyes. Thankfully, Frigga took the initiative to answer his question; I honestly didn’t know if I wanted to explain to him the emotional ride I had experienced in just the last few moments, his nearness triggering my desire to leave the room once again. If the dream had been a premonition, then the death lay at the hands of the powerful creature standing unnervingly close at the moment.

“I am to blame,” said the queen, giving me a gentle smile again before turning to look at her son. “My pleasure at hearing that you have fully taken Rune under your wing was perhaps not what she wished to hear.”

“No. No, your grace,” I finally blurted out with a shake of my head, reaching out to take her arm but stopping suddenly when I noticed Loki’s sharp eyes on my outstretched hand. I reeled it back to my side. “I am just so grateful to you. You are always so kind to me…”

“Yes, perhaps a bit too kind, Mother,” Loki warned her, earning a scowl from the woman that was short lived as Loki moved to my side.

Grabbing my elbow in what was annoyingly becoming common practice with him, he turned us both to address Frigga and Eir.

"I will have her at the training yard after midday meal, Mother," he proclaimed before turning to Eir. "Inform me when the necessary adjustments have been made, Healer Eir."

The healer nodded and even gave a quick smile to Loki, surprising me into silence as I was jerked sideways and manhandled out of the king's parlor. I heard the doors shut behind us before there was nothing but the sounds of his steady stride and my tripping steps. More than once, he harshly yanked me forward if I fell the slightest bit behind. After we managed to get through a doorway before entering a narrow corridor, his bruising, inconsiderate grip finally had me pulling against it.

"Would you stop that!" I finally snapped at him after a jarring tug had me nearly falling, saved only by him quickly yanking upwards to keep me on my feet.

The corridor spun sickeningly until I tripped a couple steps and righted myself, now standing in an alcove similar to the ones I had been fascinated by earlier. However, this one was distinctly different in feeling. It was oddly dark as though the stained glass window at its end absorbed more light than it allowed through.

Muffled, booted steps soon grabbed my attention as I turned to see Loki slowly following me into the alcove where he had unceremoniously tossed me.

"You wanted to see the painted glass, did you not?"

The question didn't match his tone--quiet, low, and too serious; I couldn't help but retreat further into the alcove to stay away from Loki's now scary presence.

"I think I've seen enough," I said quietly. I could hear the fear in it. 

So could he, a curl to one side of his mouth revealing his satisfaction.

"If you are uninterested in the sights," he continued calmly, moving further in and forcing me to retreat more, "then let us discuss another matter."

I felt the cold press of the window at my back just as Loki leaned forward to trap me, his hands taking up residence against the window on either side of my face.

"Wh-what about?" I asked with a shakiness I couldn't stop. My whole body had begun to shiver uncontrollably. Thoughts of the murdered man wouldn't stop plaguing me as Loki leaned in close.

"What were you and my mother discussing?" he asked quietly, his blue eyes looking like an animal's glinting through a shady patch of forest. Predatory. Dangerous.

 _You can't tell him about the dream,_ warned that voice once again. 

"Uh, nothing important. Just about the celebration feast."

He didn't shift or even blink but continued to stare. I realized that he was trying to read my face.

"Anything else?"

I shook my head mutely, making sure to not break eye contact with him. My hopes for deterring his questioning were pitiful at best.

“No?” he asked quietly.

I couldn’t speak, my mind an oddly silent abyss for once, so I just stared back into his sharp gaze. He finally blinked, straightening up to my relief. I felt the tension in my body briefly release before I felt Loki’s hand on my shoulder, shunting me with surprising strength to my left and into the small pocket of space next to the cold window. He moved himself close enough to keep me from leaving, my back now against the stone of the alcove, the achiness of my behind making contact with the stone causing me to jerk away from it. But not far. Loki’s intimidating self kept me boxed in.

A glance to my right revealed a small sliver of a view of the corridor around the corner of the shallow inlet he had maneuvered me into.

“I think you are hiding something, pet,” his words grabbing my attention back to his intent gaze.

“I’m not. I swear…,” I spewed out, my frantic tone giving no credence to my words.

“We will see,” is all he said as his eyes dropped down to rove over my body.

_Oh no, oh no, oh no._

“I swear. I swear it. I’m not,” I rambled.

“Hmmm,” was all he offered before I felt a growing draft around my legs. Glancing down, I noted one of his hands gathering up my skirts in a leisurely manner.

“Nooo,” I bemoaned, grabbing at his hand to stop it.

Aggressively, he slapped my hand away with his other one, tutting his tongue.

“You are keeping something from me, pet. And I wish to know what it is,” he explained just as quietly as he had spoken before, just as calmly as though this were nothing more than a regular conversation. The cool air of the palace returned around my legs, growing steadily higher as my rising skirts bared my legs.

“Please,” is all I said, a pitiful plea for mercy as I searched his face.

The shock of his touch along the inside of one of my thighs had me backing away once again, but the inevitable aching pain of my backside meeting the hard stone at my back had me returning to his hand. His currently more gentle touch was preferable over the soreness behind me.

A quietly muted whimper whined from my throat.

“If you will not tell me willingly, perhaps a little persuasion will do,” he smiled back at me, the smile making me feel slightly sick.

I couldn’t tell him I had dreamed him murdering someone. I just couldn’t. At best, it was a coincidence, my dream and what the queen had revealed. But at worst… Loki was a murderer.

The rather gentle but purposeful sliding of Loki’s finger between my folds had me gasping softly, the telltale grin of the god spreading slightly wider at my response.

“Now,” he intoned, “what else was said between my mother and my little pet?”

His finger began to make gentle swipes between that little nodule of pure pleasure and entering me, the almost languid motion immediately pulling me into a state of distraction. All I could do was shift, attempting to keep his finger from finding a rhythm.

“I told you. We just talked about the-- oooh...,” my poor repetition of my previous claim being cut off as his finger settled on making slow circles around that small bundle of nerves.

“And what did the queen tell you?” he asked as calmly as ever, my growing distress seemingly unimportant as he kept his agonizingly teasing pace, his body tantalizingly close but unyielding as I began to squirm on his fingers.

“About the celebration feast...and my need for a dress,” I managed to get out, my breathing becoming uneven, my eyes darting to the sliver of the corridor I could see, fearful we would be found out. “Please, don’t do this here. Please.”

Despite my plea, he only continued, his finger keeping an agonizingly steady pace as I shifted my weight from foot to foot, trying desperately to find an escape. The building strain between my legs was becoming something I couldn’t ignore.

“And?” was all he prompted, giving me no reprieve and no indication that my answers or plea had satisfied his curiosity.

When I didn’t respond, his finger’s ministrations increased, its circles becoming tighter. My hands leapt up to his chest, settling on grasping at the lapels of his coat. A small, breathy, higher pitched sound came from me as I pulled at him.

“That you were the reason for the dispute ending,” I rattled off between my gritted teeth, my eyes darting back and forth between Loki’s still cool, unaffected gaze and the empty corridor. 

My humiliation at being discovered by a guard or someone else wandering in our part of the palace was warring with my growing panic of Loki’s discovery of my dream. Despite my answer, he didn’t stop, his attention to that small bundle of nerves seemingly increasing, the circles growing tighter, faster. I swallowed as many sounds as I could, but a few managed to escape to Loki’s gratification. He smiled down at my growingly desperate state, my fingers now pulling hard at his lapels.

“Please...my prince,” I finally begged. Somewhere buried in my mind, I hoped my choice to refer to him as he wished would give me some reprieve, some chance to breathe, to think, my mind preoccupied with the growing pleasure his single digit was drawing from me.

His intent to make me lose control seemed to abate somewhat with my plea, his finger slowing its focused circles. However, it did not stop completely. Instead, it held me in a perpetual state of arousal, consistent and intentional.

“And what about my involvement brought about your distress?” he asked nonchalantly, his eyes now watching me with curiosity as my face undoubtedly revealed my struggle to control myself as I couldn’t help but began to pant.

In one swift movement, his finger suddenly left its previous task to slip down and in. 

“So wet, my pet,” he said with a smirk. “Enjoying this, are you?”

He slipped a second finger inside, and the sweet, mild stretch had my fingers turning white at the knuckles as they clenched and pulled at his coat. He began a slow pumping.

His other hand finally joined the endeavor, his palm finding my cheek, his fingers curling around my ear in a gentle touch as his thumb found a place at one corner of my lips. It sat there, unacknowledged and purposeless as he finally spoke again.

“Tell me, pet,” he now crooned, his tone dipping to something more yearning than demanding.

His fingers slipped from me only to pick up their previous trek of tiny circles once again. I couldn’t help but begin to move against his hand, an unconscious act to bring release.

“Please, please, please,” was all I managed as my mind could focus only on how good his touch felt.

 _Are you begging for him to stop or to continue?_ amusedly questioned that other voice.

“Tell me, my pet,” his smooth, commanding words in my ear as he leaned over yet still maddeningly without touching me in any other way than where his hands were. 

“The queen mentioned...someone...had been killed…,” I managed to get out between my painfully controlled breaths, my attempt to have some semblance of control despite Loki’s scarily skilled hands.

His pace slowed once again, and I felt my muscles relax slightly, my fingers’ frantic grip loosening some.

“Did you know this _someone_?”

The question caught me off guard. I looked back into his once again intense stare, his desire to know my answer evident all over his face. _What is he thinking?_ I began to wonder with trepidation.

“No,” I said with an added shake of my head.

My denial got two rough fingers shoved back into my thankfully slick center, the intrusion pulling a slight grunt and moan that I managed to cut off by gluing my lips together. I wasn’t fast enough, that satisfied smirk appearing as he observed my struggle.

His other hand that had done little but cup one side of my face thus far began to wander down the side of my neck as its brother began a steady pace between my legs. The featherlike drag of his fingertips along my sensitive throat juxtaposed with the brutish movements inside me were an intoxicating mixture, my head dipping back to expose more of my neck, the backs of my shoulders pressing against the cool wall as I kept my hips in place.

“You are not squeamish at the sight of blood; that I know for certain. And violence is not altogether abhorrent to you, or you would not have begun your training,” he went on, that dartiness in his eyes beginning to show as they began to bounce around my face. He was searching for something, digging for something. I just didn’t know what. 

“So why would the mere mention of a man dying cause such a reaction in my pet?” he asked, his hands suddenly stilling, drawing my attention wholeheartedly to his next words. “That is unless you knew him.”

_Oh. Oh no…_

The idea that I would know a strange warlord in some other place wholly alien to me would have been ridiculously hilarious if the god before me wasn’t so very serious.

An echoing sound of a door closing somewhere distantly had me jumping under Loki’s stilled hands. I glanced over to the sliver of corridor I could see again, hoping no one would walk by, but my tormentor wanted my attention all to himself, his hand that had been playing at my throat wrapping securely around it now. The controlled squeeze it gave only released when my eyes had quickly returned to the cool pools of his.

“Give your attention where it is due, pet,” he warned, his fingers not leaving my neck to keep me attentive. “I suggest you speak. Unless you wish to _sing_.” 

He had nearly hissed the last word as I felt his fingers curl inside me, beginning to move once again. The damn devil knew what he was doing, a guttural moan coming from me at the new feeling. I snapped my mouth close once again, this time biting down on my lower lip, but with a few more strokes, I couldn’t keep myself quiet.

“I didn’t know him. I promise. I’d never associate with someone like him,” I rambled desperately with a shake of my head again as a flash of the man groping the girl came to mind this time rather than the vile man’s dying moments. His disgusting personage was beginning to feel like a recurring violation with each remembrance.

Loki’s movements halted once again, and I slumped slightly with relief.

“Someone like him?” he asked quietly.

Those ever watchful eyes narrowed; I had said the wrong thing. 

The one set of his fingers left their fun beneath my skirts, but the other set tightened at the sides of my throat as its palm pressed threateningly. The chill of the stone at the back of my neck was enough to tip my body into a steady state of fearful nerves, my nervous swallow feeling especially noticeable against the grip of his hand.

“For your own self preservation,” his voice staying low but spoken with a harsher edge than I had heard from him yet, “I would advise you to share what you know, pet. Or you may find yourself in a much more dire situation. In a dungeon cell. At the mercy of the king’s more skilled interrogators.”

 _Interrogators?!_ The threat revealed Loki’s state of mind in regards to me at the moment; I had information he wanted. It was that simple. I wasn’t his play thing at the moment. I was a potential threat. That other voice finally piping up with the likely suggestion, _He thinks you’re a spy_.

I didn’t know what to say. I had no answer to give him that wouldn’t sound suspicious or downright crazy.

“ _Speak!_ ” 

His voice came out with a sudden viciousness, his mouth baring his teeth in a grimace as his eyes began to dart in that frantic manner across my face. His sudden burst of frustrated anger finally loosened my lips.

“I saw him in a dream!” 

I closed my eyes, not wanting to look at the terrifying god as my shaking intensified under his still controlling hand. When he didn’t say anything in reply to my absurd revelation, I continued on, figuring I had passed the point of no return.

“When you were away, I dreamed of a man being murdered...just as the queen described that man had been killed.”

More silence filled the space after my confession, and I was too terrified to open my eyes, to see either his continued anger or his doubt. Neither was appealing. His fingers shifted slightly in their grip at my throat, however, not releasing in their solid hold but just slightly flexing.

“Explain,” was all he said, but the tone had shifted, its edge softening enough for me to open my eyes.

His eyes had settled once again, now closely watching me for signs of lying, undoubtedly.

“I dreamed... It felt so real,” I began, trying to explain as honestly as I could. “I watched this man sitting at a table have his throat cut by...s-someone. It was horrible to watch. The fear in his eyes. Listening to the sounds he made…”

I shuddered again at the memory of the dream, still so strangely vivid in my mind.

“You said you would not associate with someone like him. What did you mean by that?”

“He was vile to...a young girl in the dream,” I said cautiously, almost wanting to say “you” instead.

Despite not saying as much, my explanation had Loki’s hand dropping from my throat as he straightened himself to tower above me again. He still didn’t move away, however, keeping me safely cornered in our still oddly dark alcove. The slight realization had me glancing over to the primarily grey and black stained glass window, the image of a falling warrior woman, pierced through with some sort of jagged, black spear adding to the gloominess of the space. Loki had picked a perfectly creepy spot for our little tête-à-tête.

“You mean to say he touched the girl inappropriately,” he clarified, speaking as though to correct my vagueness. As though he knew full well what I meant.

I could do little else but stare up into his blank face and nod.

“What did he ask the girl to do?” he asked quietly.

The seemingly innocuous question revealed much; he had been there and already knew the answer. He was testing me, what I had seen.

“He t-told her to rub h-his shoulders,” I stuttered out, my mouth feeling drier than a desert.

The slow spread of a smile across Loki’s face had a sudden dropping sensation filling my stomach.

“But what did she do instead, pet?”

“She killed him,” my pitiful response coming out as a whisper.

Loki raised a hand up to my face, and I couldn’t help but flinch. He only smiled more widely, his fingers gently tucking stray hairs behind my ear, the gentleness in the situation chilling.

“No, my pet,” he corrected now with a soothing tone, “I killed him.”

He looked at me for confirmation, and once I nodded, his hand moved down to curl around the back of my neck.

“You are a marvel,” he said with distinct appreciation in his voice, but now that he had confirmed his part in the brutal killing, I had only one question I needed an answer for.

“Why?”

"You are as you were named," he muttered, succeeding in confusing me with his answer as he continued to stroke my hair with gentle fingers. His eyes were bright and, for lack of a better word, joyful as they roved over my face, returning to my eyes time and again. 

His-- _happiness?_ \--in this moment was baffling and quickly racing into terrifying. 

"Why did you kill that man?" I asked more clearly, searching now for some sign of remorse in him. But he continued to smile, enjoying himself despite my growing horror.

"As you said, he was a _vile_ man," he excused, pointing out, "You saw him handle that girl."

"I saw him handle...you," I corrected to the continued delight of the grinning god.

"What other things did you see in your dream, my pet?" 

He suddenly leaned forward, causing me to plaster myself against the stone. I shut my mouth tightly to keep the inevitable grunt that accompanied the thoughtless movement before speaking.

"No, you said he was a nuisance," I stupidly argued, wanting the truth from him since he forced it from me. "It was more than you being noble for the sake of others. You said he had been a nuisance. Specifically to you. And..."

Loki's smile remained unaffected by my claims, unbothered at the growingly worried tone in my voice. 

"...and you enjoyed killing him. I saw it on your face as you...," I petered off, unwilling to describe the scene aloud. 

I watched him closely for any sort of reaction. Denial. Anger at the accusation. A semblance of a conscience. But all I could see was his continued gratification at what he was hearing.

"Ah," he said as though recalling a fond memory, another severe sinking feeling settling in my stomach at the tone, "A satisfying end to an intriguing game."

_Game? Murder is a game?!_

But then, like a flip book passing before my mind's eye, there were various images of Loki disappearing down alleys or becoming lost in crowds and nearly empty rooms alike. It finally made more sense now.

"You hunted him down," I confidently accused, "You were looking for information. And you pretended to be other people, changing your appearance like you do. Didn't you?"

That got Loki's attention, his smile becoming more mild and tepid as he considered me with a curious tilt of his head.

"That is an impressive dream, pet," he remarked.

 _What is going on?_ I wondered desperately, not sure how to process what this all meant. 

I looked up at the god's curious expression, his patience surprisingly gracious at the moment as he made no more demands for me to speak. He merely watched as I looked at him, unsure of what to make of the murderous godly prince that was my...lover.

 _Why?_

I couldn’t let it go. I needed to know. Something in me was aching to know, to give some relief to the tightness that had taken root at the center of my chest.

“Why did you murder him?”

I saw the realization dawn in his eyes, his face settling into a decidedly unbothered grin.

“I am fairly certain you were made aware of the blood on my hands soon after you arrived here,” he pointed out, a clear reference to the bloody scene from the training courtyard. “I have killed many men and women over my long life. And creatures that would terrify you at the mere knowledge of their existence, little mortal.”

I had no doubt he was being honest, the reminder of how little I really knew about the universe, about him, quite humbling.

“I assumed you had killed in battle at some point,” I admitted quietly but adding the stipulation, “Not that you’d be capable of doing what you did to that man…”

“A necessity, pet.”

“An assassination,” I corrected him.

“A necessary one,” he reiterated, this time his smile fading into a sobered expression.

“Explain,” I demanded just as he had done of me only moments earlier.

Surprisingly, Loki retreated a step, allowing me to stand upright again, a decent space now between me and the more relaxed god. He shifted nearer the morbid death scene of the warrior woman, coming to rest one leather-clad shoulder over her lovely face.

“Soon after arriving at our camp along the outskirts of both provinces,” he began, “I narrowed down the rot at the root of the disagreement. A _vile_ , greedy leader, bent on destruction to gain a name for himself, damn the expense of his soldiers or his own people.”

He paused and raised his eyebrows, clearly allowing me space to ask a question; it was a little infuriating. The god’s ability to seemingly read me like a book was always unnerving despite its regularity.

“But why kill him? Couldn’t you have arrested him instead? Introduced him to one of the nice dungeons you so like to remind me of?” I asked perhaps a little too sardonically, the focused look I received making me shift slightly away from him despite his continued leisurely stance.

“He had every right to do battle with the neighboring province,” he elaborated. “Our position was to see if we could negotiate a peace. But it was soon evident to me that he was not a man for peace talks.”

“I gathered information, as you stated,” he went on with a small nod to me, “and found the man incapable and unwilling to stop his crusade, even if it meant every man, woman, and child around him perished in the pursuit. Negotiations with someone of that nature bring about no solutions.”

Loki paused again to allow me to speak, but this time, I had nothing to say. A small grin of satisfaction at my silence played at his lips as he continued.

“However, there was hope for negotiations with his successor, an elder son. A naive boy at best,” Loki mocked, an amused huff escaping him. “But he saw the plight of his people at the mercy of his father’s blind ambition. He would easily capitulate to a treaty of peace. If only his father would step down… The rest is a dream, pet.”

He remained silent as I processed his story, matching up what I knew to his account of what occurred. I couldn't see that he was lying in any of it. And oddly enough, the anxious tightness that had settled in my chest since the queen's earlier words had dissipated by the end of Loki's explanation.

Though my wariness of the god was still healthily intact, I felt some sense of relief. _Did the man deserve the death he was given? Perhaps?_ _If what Loki said is true…_ I had no reason to doubt him. Not for the moment, at least. So I turned my thoughts to the other matter of concern in all of this.

"Are they dreams?" I finally muttered, looking up to see his shadowed face watching me.

 _He's the only other person who knows I'm not crazy. He's the only one who could know,_ the tiny realization giving me the sudden urge to share with him my own questions about my dreams. Or whatever they were.

"Or are they something else?" I asked more directly as though I were certain he'd have an answer. "Did I go to you somehow, in my mind?"

Loki took his time to think before answering.

"Those questions may be best saved for a visit with Healer Eir," he offered carefully. “Perhaps we shall make time for a stop to Healers Hall after your morning training.”

 _He can back me up when I tell Eir...what exactly? 'I stalked Prince Loki in my dreams while he was away. Isn't that neat, Eir?',_ I thought sarcastically. If my new self-imposed ties to the prince weren't shocking enough for the healer, this was certainly going to surprise her.

And then his words finally hit me.

“Training? We’re starting this morning?” I couldn’t help but ask with some genuine enthusiasm, smiling up at him hopefully.

His lids fell a little heavy over his eyes as he pushed off the glass and slid back in front of me with one long stride. One arm slid around behind me, flattening along my spine and pulling me up against him tightly. I tried looking up but only got as far as the ominous curling of his lips.

“Not until I get what I came for, pet,” he warned before I felt the familiar chilly air of the palace crawling once again up my legs.

“But…,” I protested, reaching down to try and fruitlessly push at Loki’s hand that was gathering up the material with his spider-like fingers, “I told you everything you wanted to know!”

His fingers stopped their bunching, but his iron hold at my back never relented. I looked up at him pleadingly, hoping he’d have just the teeniest, tiniest ounce of mercy in him after everything I had shared. 

“You did at that,” he acknowledged with a slight nod before continuing just as casually, “And now I wish to play with my pet.”

His movement was too quick for me to detect. One moment, I was perfectly capable of standing on my legs, and then suddenly, they had become structurally unsound from the quickly building pleasure at their apex. Loki’s digit had swiftly slid between my slick folds and gone straight to work at stoking the fire he had previously been building.

The embarrassingly audible groan I gave in response had me soberingly aware, once again, of the less-than-private location Loki had felt the need in which to “play” with me. My hands found his chest, threatening to blast the god from me, but he only pressed into them, any sign of concern on his part too well hidden for my frantic eyes to find. His chest pushed my hands back towards me as his mouth reached my ear.

"The sooner you obey, my pet," his obnoxious enjoyment saturating every word, "the sooner we may begin your lessons."

He knew exactly what to say.

 _Jerk_.

In response, my fingers curled to grab Loki's lapels once more, gritting my teeth against the growing strain between my pressing thighs. His shoulders pulled back and rose to their proper place as Loki straightened himself, my harsh grip pulling me along with him. I was on tiptoe and unable to do much but dance in place atop his persistent fingers.

A sudden swat to my backside had me moaning lowly into his chest. I somehow managed to press myself even more against his now steadying frame, the delicious smell of him seeping from his clothing as the tip of my nose moved along his tunic.

And somewhere, a rhythmic sound made its way into my growingly frazzled mind.

Footsteps!

They were faint but distinct. And...they were growing slowly louder.

I looked up at Loki in a sudden panic again. But my personal devil only smiled back.

"Stay quiet, pet, unless you wish an audience."

I shook my head in a mute plea for him to not do what he seemed set on doing. 

Two fingers were quickly at my core, curling to begin their assault on my sanity as his thumb found its place at that now overwrought bundle of nerves.

I whined pathetically as the echoing steps grew increasingly louder, surely within hearing distance if we were too loud.

 _You're the only one making sounds_ , noted the oddly happy voice.

But I couldn't focus enough to care, Loki's skilled attention quickly spiraling me to a finish. But the steps were too close.

I shook my head again at him, desperate not to be found, biting my lip so hard I was sure it would either bruise or bleed.

They had to be only a few steps away, my eyes darting to the sliver of the corridor I could make out from my nook.

"Give me what I am owed," Loki's almost growled demand making me melt against him, burying my face between my balled fists at his chest, saturating myself in his scent.

I soon felt the roll of my orgasm build to its crest, every muscle in taut anticipation of release.

"...please, please, please…," was all I could manage, an endless loop of begging. And it wasn't for him to stop.

His unoccupied hand grabbed with bruising force at my backside, pulling my hips forward into him and securely onto his pumping hand.

I could do little else but hold onto him, doing my best to smother my lewd moan into his finely tailored self as I erupted with pleasure. I ground down against his hand, pulling myself as flush against him as I could get as well.

Loki said little, seemingly fixed on his goal, until my center stopped its frantic clenching at his digits. His hand gradually slowed and then stopped altogether, his other releasing my sore behind and sliding up to my lower back, a more gentle hold, keeping my body against his own.

“Well done, pet.” 

The demeaning compliment made me cringe a little, but only after gathering my breaths did I notice the footsteps had gone quiet.

Slowly, I removed my face from Loki’s chest and leaned slightly to see a smirking Loki looking back at me from the corridor. And then he vanished.

My head snapped up to glare at Loki, the same smirk as his doppelganger fixed in place.

“You--!” I cut myself off, not sure I wanted to face another punishment so soon after the first one if I voiced the slew of insults that had come readily to mind. 

Instead, I mashed my lips together in a scowl, removing my fingers from his coat to push at his chest to get him to let go. Decidedly, I refused to look at him, the overgrown child. Always playing games.

His hand was at my chin quick enough, jerking it to force me to look at him again.

“What were you going to say with this mouth of mine?” he asked, daring me to let him have it. At my expense, of course.

I wasn’t going to play.

I glared back at him but kept my mouth shut. His grip lessened a bit, but the pad of his thumb came up to the corner of my mouth again as his palm lay along my jaw. The sudden perfume of what must have been me finally connected in my mind, a heady scent coming from Loki’s fingers.

It gave me an idea.

I let my lips soften against his thumb and even slightly turned towards it. His eyes dropped from mine to watch his thumb begin to gently stroke along my bottom lip.

 _Always so in control. So cool_ , I couldn’t help but think. The desire to see him lose control was steadily growing as his eyes appeared to be mesmerized when I opened my lips and took his thumb inside.

I could taste myself, a richness I didn’t quite know how to describe, but it had an odd effect. Locking eyes with Loki’s growingly darker ones, I slid my mouth down his thumb, running my tongue along its length and against its pad. His gaze seemed to go slightly unfocused for a moment as his mouth opened just enough to let me glimpse a pink tongue.

Encouraged that my efforts were working, I began to gently suck as I drew my lips back along his thumb. He gave a low grumble somewhere in his chest when I took the length of his finger once again into my warm mouth, once again pulling my lips along with a bit more fervor.

His face had gone slack, his eyes heavily lidded as he enjoyed the show I was putting on for him. Knowing I had some influence over him was quickly going to my head, my mouth unable to hold back a smile.

The very painful end of his thumb had suddenly pinned my tongue to the bottom of my mouth, his fingers curling under my chin to hold my jaw open. 

“Ughn!” in an indignant tone was all I could manage as I glared up at him.

“I will make use of this mouth…,” he paused, enjoying my struggle against his solid hold, his eyes watching as my tongue tried to wrestle its way out from under his painfully insistent thumb, “...when I say so, pet. Not you.”

His eyes jumped up to mine. 

“Say, ‘Yes, my prince’,” he prompted, giving a hard press down to garner a grunt from me.

“Yeth, moy prehnssh,” I managed to get out without the use of my tongue, and embarrassingly, I felt drool slip from one corner of my mouth in the process.

Loki smiled darkly at the sight, my cheeks getting a little warmer from the look. Soon enough, however, his thumb left my mouth. I gently moved my jaw, running my tongue along the roof of my mouth to moisten it once again, running the back of my hand along my chin to remove the bit of spittle that hadn’t fallen onto my frock.

He moved a step back, turning his shoulders and gesturing a hand back towards the corridor.

“I suggest we move on to your lessons,” he said lowly though surprisingly without a smile this time. “Before you tempt me any further, pet.”

He seemed to be warning me that I was on thin ice. I didn’t want to chance cracking it.

I nodded and slid away from him and back into the empty corridor where he joined me. No longer needing to drag me along, he set our more leisurely pace back to his rooms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lengthy break between posting chapters. I hope the obnoxious length of this one will hopefully earn me a smidge of forgiveness. ;)


End file.
